J 


^ 

UP    BROADWAY, 

AND    ITS    SEQUEL. 


fif« 


_ 

BY    ELEANOR    KIRK. 

[NELLIE  AMES.] 


NEW   YORK: 

Carleton,  Publisher,  Madison  Square. 

LONDON  I    S.  LOW,  SON,   &    CO. 
MDCCCLXX. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870,  by 

GEORGE   -W.   CARLETON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


Stereotyped  at 
THE  WOMEN'S   PRINTING  HOUSE, 

Eighth  Street  and  Avenue  A, 
New  York. 


"7WE   TRUTH,   THE   WHOLE   TRUTH,  AND 
NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH." 


M107623 


UP   BROADWAY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

|O  naturally  kind-hearted  and  bertevolelit 
person  can — even  after  years'  experience 
with  the  beggars,  grinders  and  sweep- 
ers who  crowd  the  streets  of  New  York — become 
sufficiently  inured  to  destitution  and  misery  to 
pass,  without  notice,  their  pitiful  faces  and  out- 
stretched hands.  Now  I,  in  common  with  many 
others,  have  been  acquainted  with  these  appeals 
for  several  years,  and  have  not,  after  continued 
and  systematic  fleecing,  become  so  hardened — or 
so  sensible — that  my  heart  does  not  ache  an  hour 
after,  when  I  have — from  inability  to  afford  relief, 
or  from  a  determination  to  bestow  my  mite  where 

(7) 


8  UP  BROADWAY. 

I  am  sure  it  will  be  well  used  and  appreciated  — 
passed  without  notice. 

1  f  In  a  walk  from  Ifearl  to  Eighth,  the  other  day  — 
orir-afher  9ii%'a\  QO&femplated  walk,  for  I  did  not 


thaVpccasion  —  I  decided  to  speak 
"to"  every  "beggar"  'who'  accosted  me,  and  discover,  if 
possible,  what  especial  phase  of  poverty  was  re- 
presented by  each.  Not  that  my  pocket  was 
especially  long  at  that  time,  or  myporte  monnaie 
unusually  full,  not  at  all  ;  but  some  information 
might  be  gained  by  such  a  process  that  could  not 
be  obtained  in  any  other  manner  ;  and  then,  if 
my  search  was  rewarded  by  really  worthy  objects, 
I  could,  by  the  assistance  of  charitable  friends,  se^e 
that  they  were  provided  for.  I  thought  to  walk  a 
block  without  being  accosted  ;  but,  on  the  steps  of 
the  Central  National  Bank  sat  a  little  woe-begone 
bundle  of  rags,  which  upon  rising  and  advancing 
toward  me,  I  found  to  be  of  the  feminine  gender. 
My  weakness  has  always  been  for  this  description 
of  sufferers,  and,  consequently,  there  was  no  lack 
of  sympathy. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  what  do  you  want  ?  "  I  asked 
kindly  of  the  little  one,  whose  eyes  shone  out  as 


UP  BROADWAY.  9 

bright  as  stars  on  a  frosty  night  from  the  mass  of 
curly,  unkempt  hair  which  surrounded  a  face 
made  prematurely  old  by  this  conflict  with  sin  and 
poverty. 

"Don't  dear  me,"  said  she,  almost  fiercely. 
"I  got  enough  of  that  at  the  Mission.  'Dear 
child,'  '  good  child,'  '  trust  in  the  Lord,  child,' 
with  a  bundle  of  tracts,  and  no  dinner,"  she  con- 
tinued, ironically. 

"Where  do  you  live,  my  child?"  I  asked — this 
time  careful  of  my  adjectives. 

"I  ain't  your  child,  nor  nobody's  child,  nor 
God's  child;  and  I  hadn't  anything  to  do  with 
being  made,  no  more  than  that  old  horse  had; 
and  nobody  need  tell  me  that  there  is  a  good 
Father  who  loves  his  children;  'tain't  no  such 
thing.  Do  you  suppose,  if  I  was  the  Lord,  I'd 
starve  poor  folks  to  death  that  I  made  myself  \ " 
and  the  eager  eyes  looked  into  my  face,  the  desire 
to  reconcile  apparent  incongruities  being  stronger, 
for  the  moment,  than  her  desire  for  good.  Here 
was  a  poser.  How  could  I  talk  to  the  suffering 
child  of  faith  ?  How  could  I  tell  her  that  God 
loveth  whom  he  chasteneth,  and  that  the  more  she 


10  UP  BROADWAY. 

endured,  the  greater  was  God's  care  and  affection 
for  her  ?  So  I  simply  said : 

"  Such  things  have  troubled  me  a  great  deal ; 
but  I  cannot  explain  to  you,  here,  what  I  do  think 
on  these  subjects.  You  are  suffering;  you  are 
hungry  and  cold ;  now  tell  me  about  yourself. 
Perhaps  I  can  do  you  some  good.  Have  you  a 
father  living  ?" 

"  No  ! "  and  the  eyes  took  on  a  wondering  look. 
"  I  don't  think  I  ever  had  a  father." 

"  And  your  mother  ? " 

"  Oh,  I've  got  one  of  them ;  but  she's  no  good." 

" No  good"  said  I ;  "  what  do  you  mean \ "  and 
I  tried  to  put  a  little  sternness  into  my  voice  and 
manner ;  but  she  took  no  notice. 

"  She  stays  out  all  night,  and  sleeps  and  cries 
all  day;  sometimes  she  brings  home  something  to 
eat,  and  more  times  the  doesn't ;  but  I  tell  you" — 
and  now  her  eyes  flashed  fire — "she  never  for- 
gets to  bring  something  to  drink." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  Round  here  in  Mulberry  street." 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  your  mother  ?  " 

"  What,  with  those  good  clothes  on  ?     I  guess 


UP  BROADWAY.  11 

not  ? "  And  the  strange  child  laughed  merrily  as 
she  glanced  at  my  plain  street-dress,  which  was  to 
her  purple  and  fine  linen.  Upon  assuring  her 
that  I  was  not  at  all  afraid,  she  led  the  way  to 
her  miserable  home. 

"  There  she  is,"  said  the  little  girl,  pointing  to 
a  figure  lying  on  a  bundle  of  straw  in  the  corner. 

"  Mother,  here  is  a  lady  come  to  see  you  ;  wake 
up  a  minute ; "  accompanying  her  words  with  a 
brisk  shaking. 

"  A  lady  !  "  and  the  figure,  by  no  means  as  in- 
animate as  it  appeared,  arose  and  confronted  me. 
Such  a  pair  of  coal-black  eyes,  and  such  a  pallid 
face,  I  never  saw  in  my  life  before.  No  tigress 
ever  looked  fiercer — and  110  woman  more  beauti- 
ful when  she  discovered  I  had  come  in  all  friend- 
liness to  be  of  service,  if  possible. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  mamma,"  said  the  girl ;  "  the 
lady  hasn't  got  a  single  tract" 

"  This  is  no  place  for  you,  madam,  and  it  is  im- 
possible for  you  to  do  me  any  good,"  was  her 
greeting,  in  clear,  ringing  tones. 

"  Your  little  girl  is  very  thinly  clad,"  I  ven- 
tured to  remark,  glancing  significantly  at  some 


12  UP  BROADWAY. 

trumpery  hanging  round,  which  was  evidently 
worn  by  the  woman  on  her  midnight  rambles. 

"  Then  you  think  the  mother  dresses  better 
than  the  child  ? "  she  inquired,  smiling  disdain- 
fully. "Those  clothes  get  her  all  the  bread  she 
eats.  Now  I  suppose  you  understand  my  profes- 
sion." 

"  Perfectly,"  I  replied,  trying  to  repress  all 
emotion.  "And  if  you  are  satisfied  with  that 
profession,  I  have  no  more  to  say.  But  your 
little  girl  ? " 

"Ah,  you  would  like  to  take  her  away,  I  sup- 
pose ;  get  her  a  place  at  service,  maybe — is  that 
your  game  ?  But  you  don't  do  it,  madam,"  she 
interrupted,  excitedly.  "  Perhaps  you  think  I 
don't  love  her — perhaps  I  don't ;  but  you  just 
try  to  wrench  her  away  from  me,  and  then  see. 
Mary,  come  here." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  this  lady,  mother.  I  would 
like  to  go  with  her.  I  don't  like. to  stay  here  all 
alone  nights  with  rats  and  mice,  and  then  have 
you  drink  out  of  that  bottle  all  day.  Oh,  Mrs. ! 
if  you  would  only  get  me  a  suit  of  boy's  clothes 
somewhere!  I  could  earn  lota  of  money.  I'd 


UP  BROADWAY.  13 

black  gentlemen's  boots  and  nobody'd  know  ;  but 
I  can't  do  anything  with  these  duds.  However 
came  I  to  be  a  nasty,  good-for-nothing  girl, 
mother  ?  I  tell  you,  Mrs.,  boys  can  do  a  heap  !  " 

I  looked  from  that  child  to  the  parent,  noted 
the  same  broad  foreheads,  and  intellectual  coun- 
tenances, and  wondered  if  any  influence  could 
reclaim  the  mother  and  preserve  the  child. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  be  impertinent,  and  pry 
into  affairs  which  are  none  of  my  concern,"  I 
ventured,  at  last,  "  but  I  am  interested  in  your 
history.  "Won't  you  please  tell  me  something  of 
yourself,  and  how  you  came  here,  for  I  per- 
ceive you  have  not  always  lived  in  this  squalid 
style." 

She  hesitated  a  moment.  Then,  offering  me 
her  only  stool,  said  : 

"I  will,  and  will  tell  the  truth,  too.  Sit 
down." 


CHAPTER  II. 

STRANGE  kind  of  smile  illumined 
the  wan  features  for  a  moment  as 
she  looked  into  my  face,  which  must  have 
expressed  every  shade  of  feeling  from  that  which 
the  countenance  of  our  blessed  Saviour  indicated 
to  that  of  shrinking  and  terror,  as  the  dreadful 
squalidness  of  the  place,  and  my  apparently  un- 
protected condition,  came  home  to  me. 

"  You  are  not  used  to  such  scenes  as  these,"  she 
said.  "  Do  not  be  in  the  least  alarmed :  you  are 
just  as  safe  in  this  tumble-down  old  shanty  in 
Five  Points  as  you  would  be  in  many  places  on 
aristocratic,  stylish  Fifth  avenue.  According  to 
my  views,  there  isn't  much  difference  in  the  crime 
committed  in  the  two  places.  "Women  there  have 
their  paramours  and  affinities.  The  man  next 
door  courts  his  neighbor's  wife  while  the  other 
fellow  trips  the  light  fantastic  with  still  another 

(14) 


UP  BROADWAY.  15 

man's  property.  Children  are  conceived,  some  of 
them  legitimately,  but  children  are  troublesome 
comforts,  and  110  fashionable  woman,  wishes  to  be 
bothered  with  an  increasing  family !  So  Dr.  So- 
and-so,  who  lives  in  close  contiguity,  and  most 
sumptuously,  is  called.  The  result — an  abortion ; 
and  the  murderer  pockets  his  big  fee,  and  keeps 
on  his  work  of  destruction.  These  babies  will  all 
confront  their  unnatural  mothers  one  of  these 
days  in  the  other  country  —  and,  madam,"  clutch- 
ing my  arm  with  the  grip  of  a  mad  woman,  "  I'd 
rather  be  Mary  Montgomery  then  than  one  of 
these.  What  do  you  say  ? " 

"  There  is  no  mistake,  my  dear,"  said  I,  endeav- 
oring to  be  calm,  "that  infanticide  is  one  of  the 
most  terrible  and  glaring  evils  possible  to  conceive 
of ;  but  the  scandalous  behavior  of  women  in 
high  life  does  not  remove  one  iota  of  your  sin  or 
mine,  or  make  it  any  less  in  the  sight  of  God." 

"  That's  so,"  she  continued  thoughtfully.  "  But 
some  way  it  eases  one's  soul  occasionally  to  make 
such  comparisons.  Think  of  it  as  you  may,  it  is 

a  relief,  when  Mrs.  Gen. or  Capt. passes 

one  like  me,  drawing  away  her  skirt  as  she  does 


16  UP  BROADWAY. 

% 

so,  as  if  the  slightest  touch  were  contamination, 
to  think,  madam,  your  stock  won't  be  worth  as 
much  as  mine  in  the  great  by-and-by." 

The  woman  stopped  a  moment,  closed  her  eyes, 
as  if  to  shut  out  some  crushing  memories,  and  the 
little  bundle  of  rags — the  child — with  the  sweet 
and  wonderfully  intelligent  face,  crept  close  to 
my  side. 

"Say,  Mrs.,"  said  she  softly,  "please  to  tell  me 
what  these  things  are  for,"  pointing  with  her  little 
red  linger  to  the  miserable  surroundings. 

"What  things?"  I  asked,  while  the  bunch  in 
my  throat  grew  bigger  and  tears  iilled  my  eyes. 

"Why  is  all  this  badness?  and  this  dreadful 
cold  room  ?  and  these  rags,  and  mother's  head- 
aches and  crying?  I  don't  like  'em;  they  don't 
agree  with  me ;  and  I  can't  bear  these  clothes.  I 
never  was  clean  and  nice;  and  what  is  it  all  for? 
Why  mayn't  I  have  good  things,  and  why  mayn't 
mother  stop  staying  out  nights,  and  drinking  out 
of  that  black  bottle?  /never  did  nothing  to  no- 
body; what  does  God  punish  me  for?" 

I  have  been  nonplussed  many  a  time  with  the 
questions  of  my  own  little  ones,  but  never  was  my 


UP  BROADWAY.  17 

theology  so  thoroughly  squelched  before ;  and  I 
only  answered,  "  My  poor  child !  I  do  not  wonder 
that  you  ask  these  questions ;  but  I  am  utterly  un- 
able to  give  you  any  light." 

How  could  I  make  that  poor  persecuted 
babe  understand  that  God  loveth  whom  he 
chasteneth?  No,  indeed.  I  didn't  attempt  it; 
for  in  the  heaviest  of  my  own  afflictions,  that 
and  kindred  passages  failed  to  give  me  the  least 
satisfaction.  I  make  this  statement  with  due 
reverence,  for  I  honestly  believe  that  God  is  at 
the  helm,  and  will  bring  things  out  all  right  one 
of  these  days.  But  why  the  innocent  should  suf- 
fer for  the  guilty  will  take  more  light  and  grace 
than  I  ever  expect  to  attain  to  in  this  world  to 
either  explain  or  reconcile. 

"  I  wrant  to  tell  you  of  myself,"  said  the  hollow- 
eyed  woman,  breaking  in  upon  a  solemn  pause, 
and  fondly  stroking  the  little  one's  curls.  "Now, 
Mary,  you  go  and  sit  with  old  Mother  Thurston 
while  I  talk  to  this  lady." 

The  child  obeyed — only  saying  as  she  went  out 
—  "  Please  call  me  before  this  lady  goes ;  I  want 
to  see  her  again." 


18  VP  BROADWAY. 

"  My  name  is  Mary  Montgomery,"  she  contin- 
ued, looking  into  her  lap.  "  I  was  born  in  Phila- 
delphia, of  American  parents,  and  very  respect- 
able parents,  too.  They  are  both  dead  now, 
thank  God.  I  was  well  brought  up,  well  edu- 
cated, and  quite  accomplished.  These  hands," 
holding  up  her  attenuated  lingers,  "  do  not  remind 
one  very  forcibly  of  Beethoven's  sonatas,  or  Mo- 
zart's symphonies,  yet  they  could  manage  them 
all  once.  I  wonder  if  I  could  play  a  single  tune 
now?  My  father  and  mother  never  seemed  to 
love  me — at  least  as  I  wanted  to  be  loved.  They 
were  never  demonstrative.  My  first  impression 
of  my  mother  was  her  iciness,  and  the  extreme 
formality  of  my  father  in  all  matters  of  social  in- 
tercourse. At  seventeen  I  had  never  been  in  the 
society  of  young  men  at  all.  My  father  would 
not  consent  to  an  evening  party,  a  dance,  or  to 
the  least  mingling  with  the  terrible  class  of  which 
he  made  one.  One  afternoon,  returning  from  my 
aunt's,  I  strayed  into  Chestnut  street  and  stole  an 
hour's  walk,  as  I  had  done  many  times  before.  As 
I  stood  looking  into  a  book-store,  I  felt  that  some 
one  stood  beside  me,  and  was  conscious  that  a 


UP  BROADWAY.  19 

gentleman  was  examining  my  features  attentively. 
I  turned  with  the  intention  of  saying  something 
sharp  and  saucy — but  his  pleasant  and  respectful 
expression  speedily  drove  that  idea  from  my 
mind.  Without  the  least  reserve  he  said : 

" '  Here  we  have  all  the  poets,  and  most  daz- 
zlingly  arrayed  too.  Which  of  the  number  do 
you  prefer  ? '  enumerating  the  authors, 

"  It  seemed  very  proper  and  natural  for  me  to 
answer  him.  So  after  a  little  conversation  con- 
cerning our  favorites,  he  walked  with  me  until 
within  a  block  of  my  house,  when  I  bade  him 
good  afternoon.  During  our  conversation,  I  had 
given  him  my  name  and  some  idea  of  my  life, 
and  had  promised  to  meet  him  the  next  day,  in 
front  of  the  book-store  in  Chestnut  street.  A 
few  interviews,  and  the  man  had  declared  his  love, 
and  I  had  confessed  mine.  It  would  never  do  to 
mention  this  to  my  parents.  I  should  have  been 
immediately  confined  in  my  own  room,  with  no 
prospect  of  ever  seeing  my  lover  again  during 
the  term  of  my  natural  life.  So  we  continued  to 
meet  stealthily.  At  last,  he  proposed  a  secret 
marriage,  saying  that  he  would  take  me  to  New 


20  UP  BROADWAY. 

York,  and,  after  the  ceremony  was  performed, 
we  could  plead  for  the  forgiveness  and  blessing 
of  my  parents.  I  agreed  to  that  also.  Oh!  I 
loved  him  so,  that  I  would  have  sunk  my  soul  in 
the  lowest  depths  of  the  inferno  to  have  given 
him  pleasure!  and  oh,  my  God,  how  I  love  him 
this  minute !  how  I  love  him !  how  I  love  him ! 
Excuse  me,  these  exhibitions  are  not  interesting  to 
you,"  and  then  continued.  "  I  left  my  home  one 
day  with  nothing  save  the  clothes  I  had  on.  We 
took  a  train  to  New  York — then  a  carriage  from 
the  depot  to  some  minister's  house  and  were  mar- 
ried. After  that  to  a  hotel,  where  we  remained 
for  a  few  days,  and  then  my  husband  took  me 
home.  Oh,  and  wasn't  it  home  ?  Everything  that 
money  could  buy  was  lavished  upon  that  house ; 
and  as  I  crept  into  his  arms,  after  a  careful  ex- 
amination of  every  nook  and  corner,  I  thanked 
God  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  that  I  had 
found  so  good  and  loving  a  husband." 


CHAPTER  III. 

|H!  my  dear  lady,"  she  said,  "there 
never  was  such  happiness  since  the  bliss 
Adam  and  Eve  enjoyed  in  the  garden  of 
Eden  as  we  experienced  for  more  than  a  year. 
My  husband  often  remained  away  from  me  all 
night,  telling  me  that  business  compelled  him ; 
but  he  would  inyariably  make  it  up  by  remaining 
by  my  side  the  greater  portion  of  the  succeeding 
day.  I  had  no  care,  no  responsibility.  Life  was 
love,  and  love  was  life.  I  ate  it,  drank  it,  feasted 
upon  it,  revelled  in  it.  In  short,  I  bowed  down 
before  my  idol  and  worshipped  him.  One  year 
passed,  and  my  Mary  was  born,  the  little  girl 
who  brought  you  here." 

"  The  child  of  honest  wedlock,  then  ? "  I  inter- 
rupted, and  without  thinking. 

"Oh  don't,  madam  —  as  I  supposed;  as  I  be- 
lieved;" she  replied  distractedly.  "  But  wait 


22  UP  BROADWAY. 

until  I  finish.  Please  don't  anticipate,  or  I  shall 
never  have  strength  enough  left  to  finish  the 
sickening  details.  She  was  a  darling  baby  and 
her  father  was  so  fond  of  her.  I  used  sometimes 
to  grow  jealous  of  the  caresses  lavished  upon  her. 
I  used  to  wonder  why  my  husband  never  took 
me  to  parties,  and  why  we  never  received  com- 
pany like  other  families  in  upper-tendom,  and 
why  he  always  chose  the  evenings  to  take  me  out 
for  a  walk  or  drive,  and  I  would  occasionally 
express  to  him  my  astonishment  at  the  way  our 
domestic  programme  was  arranged.  lie  always 
replied  after  this  style :  <  Is  my  little  wife  dis- 
satisfied ?  If  so,  I  will  invite  half  New  York  to 
entertain  her.  It  is  because  I  love  her  so,  that, 
buried  in  my  own  heart,  I  desire  to  satisfy  her 
with  what  she  finds  there.' 

"  "We  read  and  sung,  and  sketched,  and  petted 
baby,  with  no  cloud  to  disturb  our  serenity.  By- 
and-by  it  came  without  a  single  gust  of  prepara- 
tion. My  husband  generally  returned  to  me 
about  three  in  the  afternoon.  One  day  he  was  a 
little  later  than  usual,  and  just  as  I  was  going 
down  to  the  dining-room  to  see  that  everything 


UP  BROADWAY.  23 

was  in  order  for  dinner,  I  found  that  the  servant 
was  admitting  visitors  into  the  hall.  This  was  so 
rare  that  I  stopped  to  see  who  was  coming. 

u '  Does  Mrs. live  here  ? '  —  mentioning  my 

name  —  I  heard  a  lady  ask  in  low  tones. 

"  <  She  does,  madam ;  will  you  please  walk  into 
the  parlor'?'  the  servant  replied. 

<c  I  drew  back  into  the  library  and  waited  for 
her  to  enter.  It  might  be  my  mother,  I  thought, 
to  whom  I  had  written  for  forgiveness  several 
times,  but  never  had  received  an  answer.  Im- 
agine my  surprise,  when  a  lady,  elegantly 
dressed,  followed  by  a  nurse  carrying  an  infant, 
swept  by  into  the  drawing-room.  I  immediately 
passed  in  after  them. 

"  'Mrs. ,  I  suppose,'  said  the  lady,  with  a 

look  of  unutterable  scorn  upon  her  handsome 
features. 

" '  Yes,  madam,'  I  replied.  c  Whom  have  I  the 
honor  of  addressing  ? ' 

"'Not  the  least  consequence,  Mrs. ;  I 

have  business  with  your  husband.' 

"'I  am  expecting  him  in  every  moment,'  I 
replied.  '  Please  make  yourself  comfortable.' 


24:  UP  BROADWAY. 

"  Just  then  the  nurse  brought  my  babe  to  the 
door.  She  was  then  about  six  months  old,  just 
able  to  sit  up  alone.  The  other  babe  was  appar- 
ently about  the  same  age.  I  placed  my  darling 
on  the  carpet,  and  held  out  my  hands  to  the 
other  little  one.  She  came  to  me  in  a  moment, 
held  up  her  cherry  lips  for  a  kiss,  and  I  removed 
her  cap  and  cloak,  and  placed  her  beside  mine. 
Oh !  merciful  Father !  they  were  as  alike  as  two 
roses  from  the  same  stem.  But  even  then  I  was 
unsuspicious. 

"fllow  do  you  account,  madam,'  said  the 
woman  in  tones  cold  and  polished  as  glittering 
steel,  <  for  the  remarkable  resemblance  between 
these  two  children?' 

"  They  were  both  dressed  in  white,  with  blue 
sashes  and  sleeve  trimmings.  I  did  not  at  first 
reply,  but  laughingly  removed  my  chain  from 
my  watch-guard,  and.  slipped  it  around  the  neck 
of  my  Mary,  saying,  as  I  did  so, i  I  will  place  a 
mark  on  mine  to  distinguish  her,  else,  I  fear,  we 
shall  hardly  be  able  to  tell  them  apart. '  Pretty 
soon  I  heard  my  husband's  night-key,  and  in  a 


UP  BROADWAY.  25 

second  Ms  voice,  singing  the  old  Scotch  ballad 
(he  always  sang  as  he  entered  .the  house),  — 

"  *  Oh,  Mary  is  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  darling, 
Oh !  where  in  the  world  is  my  darling 
That  I  do  not  find  her  here  ? ' 

"'My  husband  has  come,'  said  I.  *I  will 
bring  him  to  you.' 

'"  There  is  a  lady  in  the  parlor  for  you,' I 
said,  and  flew  to  his  embrace. 

"*"A  lady!'  he  repeated  in  a  strange  whis- 
per. 'You  are  joking,  dear,'  but  an  awful  pale- 
ness overspread  his  face.  '  Tell  her  I  am  not  in ; 
that's  a  gqpd  little  wife.  How  come  she  to  be 
admitted  ? '  but  before  I  could  leave  the  hall,  the 
fury  was  upon  him. 

" '  Oh ! '  said  she,  calling  him  by  his  right  name. 
You  see,  my  dear  lady,  I  had  never  known  it. 
'  Did  you  think  to  keep  on  deceiving  me  in  this 
style?  Come  here  and  look;'  and  clutching  him 
furiously  by  the  arm,  she  almost  dragged  him  in- 
to the  parlor.  The  two  babies  began  to  crow  and 
laugh,  clapping  their  tiny  hands  in  their  delight 
at  seeing  him.  Oh,  my  —  wasn't  that  fearful! 


26  UP  BROADWAY. 

and  as  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair  near  them 
in  a  perfect  agony  of  despair,  the  little  darlings, 
determined  that  he  should  notice  them,  played 
with  his  feet,  and  finally,  failing  to  attract  his 
attention,  commenced  to  cry  piteously.  I  did 
not  then  comprehend  the  depth  of  the  dreadful 
affair;  and  taking  the  infants  from  the  carpet  I 
placed  one  on  each  knee  of  the  man  I  had  called 
husband.  He  pressed  them  both  to  his  bosom 
for  a  moment,  saying  as  he  did  so, '  Mary,  you 
have  killed  me.' 

"'But  what  does  all  this  mean  V  I  at  last 
found  breath  to  ask. 

"'It  means,  madam,'  said  the  self -possessed 
woman,  '  that  that  man  is  my  lawful  husband, 
and  that  child  his  legitimate  offspring.  It  means 
that  you  are  his  mistress,  and  that  babe  the  child 
of  shame  and  lust.' 

"'You  are  a  liar,'  said  I,  springing  towards 
her.  c  Unsay  those  dreadful  words,  or  these  hands 
will  force  an  entrance  to  your  black  heart ; '  and 
God  only  knows  what  else,  in  my  insane  agony,  I 
did  say. 


UP  BROADWAY.  27 

"  c  Ask  him  if  it  is  not  so,'  replied  the  woman, 
still  cool  and  polished. 

" '  Mary,'  said  my — my — oh,  yes — my  hus- 
band ;  let  me  call  him  that  once  more.  '  Curse 
me  if  you  will.  I  am  utterly  unworthy  a  single 
thought.  That  woman,  proud,  overbearing  and 
cold,  I  never  loved,  but  she  is  just  what  she*  repre- 
sents herself,  my  lawful  wife 

"  <  And  I— I— I  am  what  ? '  I  shrieked. 

" (  My  darling/  he  replied,  '  my  heart's  choice ! 
but  in  the  eyes  of  a  cruel  world — just  what  she 
has  told  you  ;  my — mistress.  I  loved  you,  Mary; 
your  beauty  and  your  innocence  dazzled  me.  My 
heart  was  hungry  for  you,  and  I  foolishly  thought 
I  could  provide  for  all  without  being  detected, 
but  that  bloodhound  has  traced  me,  and  we  are 
betrayed.  I  am — oh,  my — a  miserable  wretch.' 

"'But  our  marriage' — 

"'Was  a  farce.  I  was  not  man  enough  to 
attempt  bigamy  even.' " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

[AT  did  I  do?"  she  repeated,  as  under 
my  breath,  my  heart  beating  in  sym- 
pathy for    the  poor    narrator,   I   could 
not  help  asking. 

"Do !  I  snatched  my  babe  from  the  floor,  and, 
with  jnst  a  few  articles  of  wearing  apparel  and  a 
small  sum  of  money,  I  left  the  house  without  an- 
other word ;  left  that  cold,  haughty  woman  still 
in  the  parlor;  left  the  only  person  I  loved  on 
earth,  except  my  little  one.  No  one  saw  me  go. 
I  took  the  evening  train  for  Philadelphia;  went 
to  my  father's  house  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night ; 
found  that  my  mother  had  died  a  few  weeks 
previous.  My  father  came  stiffly  into  the  parlor ; 
inquired  what  might  be  my  business  with  him — 
to  transact  it  as  quickly  as  possible,  as  he  was  in 
a  hurry  to  close  the  house  and  retire.  I  told  him, 
that  I  had  brought  my  baby  home  to  make  a  visit. 


UP  BROADWAY.  29 

Oh,  I  did  so  hope  to  soften  his  heart!  The  little 
one  clapped  her  tiny  hands,  laughed  up  into  his 
iron  face,  called  him  papa !  but  he  took  no  notice 
I  then  continued  to  ask  him  if  he  had  one  kind 
word  for  his  daughter? 

"'Not  one,'  he  replied,  flying  into  an  ungovern- 
able rage.  '  Where  is  your  keeper,  madam,  the 
father  of  that  child?'  he  roared.  'If  he  be  dead, 
I  may,  perhaps,  for  decency  sake,  tolerate  you 
under  my  roof — but  that  brat,  never.  Say  2' 
grasping  my  arm  and  shaking  me  fiercely — 'yes 
or  no !  Is  he  dead  or  living  ? 

"'Living,  father,'  said  I,  'and  likely  to  live.  I 
have  come  to  you  to-night  for  shelter.  I  have  no 
other  home.  Do  let  me  stay  with  you  ? ' 

44 'When  that  child  of  disgrace  and  its  damned 
parent  are  both  in  the  grave,  come  to  me,  and  I 
will  feed  and  clothe  you;  but  with  those  evi- 
dences of  shame  about  you,  never,  never,  never, 
BO  help  me  God ! ' 

"  Oh,  how  those  memories  madden  me ! "  said 
the  woman,  rising  from  her  seat  on  the  floor  and 
pacing  rapidly  up  and  down  a  moment  or  two. 
"  Sometimes,  madam,"  she  continued,  her  whole 


30  UP  BROADWAY. 

expression  changing  from  the  fierce,  almost  des- 
pairing look  her  face  had  all  the  time  worn  to 
one  of  weird  and  wonderful  illumination ;  "  some- 
times, I  hear  my  father's  voice  (he  died,  you  see, 
only  a  few  months  after  this),  saying,  'Mary! 
Mary!  my  child,  forgive  me?  I  knew  not  what 
I  did.  Upon  my  soul  rests  your  downfall!'  I 
hear  this  voice  in  the  night — hear  it  in  the 
day — hear  it  when  on  my  Broadway  beat!  It 
seeks  me  here,  there,  and  everywhere !  <  Forgive 
me,  child !  Oh,  forgive  me ! ' 

"And  you  have  forgiven  him,"  I  ventured  to 
remark,  through  a  blinding  mist  of  tears. 

"Have  I?"  she  replied,  pausing  in  her  walks, 
and  looking  me  straight  in  the  face  with  those 
wondrous  eyes  of  hers.  "  Have  I  ?  Perhaps  you 
know  more  about  it  than  I  do ! " 

Aye,  there  was  rebellion  there.  Rebellion  in 
the  curve  of  the  lip,  rebellion  in  the  toss  of  the 
head,  beautiful,  even  now,  bowed  down  though 
it  was  with  the  weight  of  sin  and  shame. 

"  Forgive  him !  Who  forgives  me  ?  When 
Fifth  avenue  takes  me  by  the  hand ;  when  min- 
isters stop  preaching  of  charity,  and  put  some  of 


UP  BROADWAY.  31 

it  into  practice ;  when  Christians  remember  that 
the  only  reprimand  of  Jesus  to  the  fallen  woman 
was  '  Go,  and  sin  no  more,'  then  will  I  forgive  the 
man  who  sent  me  and  my  baby  to  perdition. 
When  do  you  suppose  that  will  be?  You  can  be 
gentle  and  kind  to  me,  here.  You  dare  let  your 
tears  fall  now,  that  there  is  no  one  by  to  observe 
your  weakness ;  but  suppose  sometimes  returning 
from  opera  or  lecture,  acompanied  by  your 
friends,  you  should  meet  me,  do  you  think  you 
would  have  a  kind  word  for  me  then?  No, 
indeed.  You  would  pity  me,  I  know,  because 
you  are  naturally  loving  and  sympathetic,  but 
to  go  contrary  to  society's  requirements  and 
conventionalisms,  you  would  not  dare!  I'll  tell 
you  what  I  will  do.  I  will  leave  Fifth  avenue 
and  the  rest  of  the  world  to  their  own  devices, 
and  promise  this,  since  you  are  so  earnest  in 
regard  to  my  most  unnatural  parent:  I  will 
forgive  when  you,  with  your  select  few,  unex- 
pectedly meeting  me,  can  say, '  Good  evening,  my 
friend ;  I  am  glad  to  see  you.' " 

"Then  allow  me  to  tell  you,"  I  replied,  "that 
your  father  is  forgiven,  if  forgiveness,  which  I 


32  UP  BROADWAY. 

certainly  do  not  believe,  can  depend  upon  such 
contingencies  for  its  evidences  and  expression. 
I  should  neither  be  ashamed  nor  afraid  to  speak 
to  you,  meet  you  under  what  circumstances  I 
might.  But  I  must  certainly  question  your  right 
to  demand  this.  I  sometimes  fear  that  the  pas- 
sage of  Scripture  where  Jesus  commands  the  one 
without  sin  to  cast  the  first  stone,  has,  from  its 
singular  perversion,  done  more  harm  than  good." 
Those  fierce  eyes  glared  down  into  my  soul ;  but 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  shrank  not  from 
giving  pain.  The  surgeon  probes  deeply  when 
he  would  discover  the  nature  and  depth  of  the 
wound  he  desires  to  heal,  so  I  looked  away  for 
a  moment  from  the  glowing  countenance  and 
continued:  "When  Jesus  forgave  that  erring 
woman,  he  said,  c  Go,  and  sin  no  more.'  There 
was  never  a  word  in  regard  to  her  continuing  in 
the  paths  of  immorality,  or  the  duty  of  the  public 
towards  one  guilty  of  such  persistence.  "We  are 
counselled,  I  admit,  to  a  boundless  charity;  we 
are  told  to  forgive  seventy  times  seven ;  but  after 
all  that,  the  public  sentiment  which  denies  to 
those  guilty  of  transgressing  human  and  divine 


UP  BROADWAY.  33 

laws  the  privileges  of  social  life,  is,  in  my  estima- 
tion, a  healthy  one.  Although  I  could  and 
would  accost  you  kindly  under  any  and  all  cir- 
cumstances, yet  you  have  no  right  to  expect  it, 
unless  you  change  the  whole  current  of  your  life, 
and  dertermine  to  turn  your  back  upon  those 
unholy  influences  forever." 

I  had  said  more  than  I  intended,  for  it  is  never 
best  to  preach  much  to  these  sufferers;  but  as  I 
continued,  the  fierce  look  fled  from  her  eyes,  and 
she  replied  honestly: 

"Well,  I  never  thought  of  that  before.  To 
tell  the  truth,  I  never  associated  Jesus'  forgive- 
ness with  any  idea  of  the  cessation  of  sin." 

Now  this  may  appear  very  singular  to  readers, 
that  such  construction  should  be  placed  by  any 
intelligent  person  upon  so  apparently  lucid  a 
passage ;  but  I  am  free  to  say,  after  an  extended 
observation,  that  nothing  in  the  Bible  has  ever 
been  so  grossly  misconstrued  and  acted  upon  as 
this. 

"I  scarcely  know,"  said  she  musingly,  "whether 
I  shall  bless  or  curse  the  fate  that  sent  you  here 
to-day.  One  or  the  other,  I  assure  you.  I  had 


34  UP  BROADWAY. 

tried  so  long  to  stop  thinking,  and  had  settled 
so  many  things  to  my  satisfaction,  now  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  go  all  over  the  ground  again.  But, 
as  I  was  saying,"  going  back  to  her  story  again, 
"  with  my  baby  in  my  arms,  at  the  hour  of  mid- 
night, cold  and  dark,  I  walked  out  of  my  father's 
house,  and  heard  him  carefully  bolt  the  door  as 
I  walked  off  the  marble  stoop.  A  servant  who 
had  lived  in  our  family  for  years,  with  whom  I 
was  a  great  favorite,  followed  me  from  the  back 
entrance,  took  my  little  one,  and  led  me  to  her 
sister's  house,  where  I  was  comfortably  cared  for 
until  the  next  day,  when  I  left  for  New  York, 
determined  to  fight  out  the  battle  of  life  here — 
and  I  have." 


CHAPTEE   Y. 

|HE  winter  sun  slanted  into  the  comfort- 
less room,  reminding  me  that  the  day 
was  almost  spent,  and  the  better  plan 
was  to  leave  and  come  again  the  next  afternoon. 
She  saw  my  glance  and  interpreted  it  aright. 

'  Yes,  you  had  better  go  now,"  said  she,  with 
a  pained  look.  "  Mary  shall  see  you  to  Broad- 
way ;  no  one  ever  molests  her." 

"And  now,"  said  I,  "please  tell  me  what 
you  have  in  the  house  for  your  supper.  And 
if  there  is  not  some  way  of  making  a  cheerful 
fire." 

"  I  have  money  enough,"  she  replied,  "  to  pro- 
cure everything  we  need  to-night,  and  Mary  will 
soon  go  to  bed,  so  it  will  be  of  no  use  to  make 
up  any  more  fire." 

"  And  shall  you  retire  with  your  little  daugh- 
ter ? "  I  required,  looking  her  straight  in  the  eye. 


36  UP  BROADWAY. 

"Oh   no!"   she    said,    returning    my   glance 
unshrinkingly.     "  I  have  an  engagement." 

The  reader  can  imagine  my  feelings.  Pity, 
sympathy,  a  desire  to  take  the  poor  tempest- 
tossed  woman  in  my  arms  and  ;fly  with  her  to 
some  spot  out  of  the  reach  of  temptation,  tilled 
my  soul.  My  position  was  a  delicate  one.  I 
realized  of  how  much  service  would  be  a  word 
fitly  spoken ;  and  if  ever  I  prayed  in  my  life,  I 
prayed  then  that  I  might  be  given,  not  only  the 
right  spirit,. but  that  which  is  often  quite  as 
essential,  the  right  language  in  which  to  clothe 
this  spirit  of  longing  and  sympathy.  Many  and 
many  a  person  in  their  dealings  with  different 
classes  of  unfortunates,  with  as  earnest  a  desire 
to  be  of  service  as  ever  burned  in  the  soul  of 
man  or  woman,  have  blundered  fearfully  in  this 
respect,  and,  by  some  unlucky  sentence,  or  appar- 
ently unfeeling  interrogative  have  set  impassable 
barriers  between  themselves  and  the  objects  of 
their  interest.  Providence  spared  me  the  neces- 
sity of  assuming  the  initiative.  As  I  stood 
wondering  what  it  was  best  to  say  —  in  what  man- 
ner I  could  reach  that  part  of  her  nature  I  most 
desired  to  reach,  she  remarked  pleasantly : 


UP  BROADWAY.  87 

"Excuse  me,  madam,  but  I  know  what  you 
are  thinking  about.  I  see  it  all  in  your  eyes. 
You  want  me  to  promise  that  I  will  not  go  out 
to-night.  Isn't  that  it  ? " 

"Exactly,"  I  replied,  while  that  dreadful 
bunch  in  my  throat  grew  (to  coin  a  word) 
unswallowable. 

"Well,"  she  resumed,  ^1  promise,  upon  my 
word  and  honor,  if  you  can  believe  in  either, 
after  all  I  have  told  you,  that  I  will  not  step  foot 
into  the  street  this  night  ? " 

There  was  a  touching  wistf  ulness  in  the  tone 
which  satisfied  me  that  one  victory  had  been 
achieved.  I  had  won  her  loving  confidence,  and 
that  under  the  circumstances  seemed  to  me  a 
wonderful  stride  in  the  right  direction.  Please, 
dear  reader,  do  not  think  me  foolishly  egotistical 
in  this  little  narrative.  If  I  do  not  give  you  the 
particulars  as  they  occurred  (for  this  is  no  work 
of  fiction),  I  shall  not  be  able  to  make  you 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  my  strange  and 
fallen  heroine. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  I  know,"  she  continued, 
"  for  being  so  bold,  but  please  remember  that  no 


38  UP  BROADWAY. 

human  being  has  spoken  a  kind  word  to  me 
since  —  since — he  did;"  and  here  the  woman 
broke  down  entirely,  and  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands,  sobbing  bitterly.  Oh  tears,  blessed  tears  ! 
under  such  circumstances,  a  salvation.  The 
fountains  were  opened,  and  she  wept  unre- 
strainedly. 

"I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  this  first 
proof  of  your  confidence,"  I  ventured  to  say, 
striving  to  be  calm.  "  I  shall  leave  you  now 
without  fear,  and  will  come  again  to-morrow 
about  the  same  hour ;  and  now  please  call  your 
little  girl."  The  little  child  came  with  a  dis- 
appointed look  on  her  care-worn  face,  but  she 
brightened  up  when  she  found  she  was  to 
accompany  me  away  and  that  I  had  promised  to 
return  on  the  morrow. 

"Mary,"  said  I,  as  we  reached  the  street, 
"your  mother  has  promised  not  to  go  out  to- 
night." 

"What?"  said  she,  clasping  her  little  hands 
and  coming  to  a  dead  halt.  "  Won't  that  be 
nice  ?  I'll  have  a  bully  sleep  to-night !  I  guess 
there  is  a  God,  and  I  just  guess  He  is  good  some- 


UP  BROADWAY.  39 

times     There  isn't  anybody  that  feels  good  all 
the  time,  is  there  f  " 

Upon  questioning  the  little  one  as  to  eatables, 
fire,  etc.,  I  found  that  their  living  was  prin- 
cipally bread  and  tea,  and  that  the  little  gray- 
looking  concern  in  the  fireplace  could  be  made 
to  cook  very  nicely.  "What  would  you  like 
most  to  have  for  your  supper,  Mary,  supposing 
you  had  the  choice  given  you  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Oh,  meat ! "  said  she,  "  meat !  I  believe  1 
could  eat  a  whole  cow." 

"  Well  then,  meat  you  shall  have,"  I  replied, 
giving  the  child  some  change.  "  Go  home  and 
make  a  good  fire,  and  have  a  good  supper,  and 
more  than  all,  little  one,  try  to  believe  that 
although  there  are  hosts  of  things  which  none  of 
us  can  understand,  yet,  if  we  do  the  best  we  can, 
as  near  right  as  we  can,  that  we  shall  some  day 
obtain  our  reward." 

"  And  you  believe  that  ?"  she  queried,  with  a 
rare  smile. 

"  From  the  bottom  of    my  heart,"   I  made 

answer. 

"Then  I  will    try  to,"    she    replied.    "But 


±0  UP  BROADWAY. 

everything  is  so  awful  bad,  and  I'm  so  awful 
ragged  and  so  awful  dirty.  I  can't  make  that 
right,  because  I  do  like  to  look  like  other  good 
folks,  and  have  mother  too ;  but  never  mind,  I 
will  wait  for  you  here  to-morrow ;"  and  the  little 
one,  with  a  tight  squeeze  of  my  hand,  ran  quickly 
away,  leaving  me,  wondering  but  thankful,  once 
more  on  gay  Broadway.  Aye,  friends,  the 
wealth  of  the  world  could  not  purchase  that 
day's  experience.  These  words  kept  ringing  in 
my  ears,  all  the  way  home  and  the  tune  was  a 
merry  one — "There  is  more  joy  in  heaven  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth  than  over  ninety  and 
nine  just  persons  that  need  no  repentance,"  and 
somehow  (of  course  it  was  all  imagination,  but 
wonderfully  pleasant)  the  faces  of  my  dear, 
departed  mother  and  father  looked  smilingly  out 
of  every  cloud ;  and  a  sweet  voice  seemed  to 
whisper,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  do  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  these,"  and  what,  in  the  world's  estima- 
tion, could  be  of  less  consequence  than  an 
abandoned  woman  ? 

The  next  afternoon,  at  the  appointed  time,  I 
met  the  little  girl  at  the  same  place.    The  child's 


UP  BROADWAY.  41 

hair  was  nicely  combed,  and  her  hands  and 
face  as  clean  as  soap  and  water  could  make 
them. 

"  How  is  your  mother  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Well,  I  dunno  ? "  she  answered.  "  She  cried 
dreadful  hard,  seems  to  me,  most  all  night,  but 
she  looks  real  nice  this  afternoon." 

Sure  enough,  the  room  was  nicely  swept,  a 
bright  fire  burned  in  the  little  stove,  and  the 
bundle  of  straw  which  answered  for  a  bed  was 
covered  with  an  old  quilt  and  tidily  arranged. 

"  How  pleasant  this  seems,"  I  remarked,  notic- 
ing that  two  chairs  had  been  added  to  the  furni- 
ture. "  Now,  I  am  going  to  take  off  my  things 
and  you  will  begin  where  you  left  off  yesterday, 
and  then  we  can  put  our  heads  together  and  see 
what  we  had  best  do."  My  new  friend  peered 
into  my  face  curiously,  but  I  chatted  gaily,  only 
wishing  to  convey  the  shadow  of  an  idea  that  I 
intended  to  bring  about  a  revolution  in  her  affairs. 
Mary  was  dispatched,  this  time  very  much 
against  her  will,  to  Mother  Thurston,  but  some 
warm  stockings  and  underclothes,  with  a  dress  or 
two  and  a  brush  and  comb,  which  I  had  col- 


42  UPBKOADWAT. 

lected  from  friends,  did  the  work,  and  the  child 
left,  laughing  and  crying  hysterically. 

"  As  I  was  telling  you,"  the  woman  continued, 
"  I  returned  to  New  York.  I  spent  one  whole 
week  hunting  for  work.  Every  place  I  went  I 
was  compelled  to  carry  my  baby.  All  looked 
at  me  suspiciously.  Finally,  in  despair,  I  went 
where  shirts  and  men's  underclothing  were 
given  out,  found  an  old  woman  who  took  care  of 
Mary,  and  promised  to  board  us  for  three  dol- 
lars a  week.  The  first  work  I  carried  home  I 
was  confronted  by  the  proprietor,  who,  after 
asking  me  several  questions  about  myself,  ended 
by  informing  me  that  he  would  give  me  a  better 
quality  of  work,  better  pay,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  He  did  so,  and  I  found  myself  able  to 
earn  from  six  to  eight  dollars  a  week.  He 
seemed  very  kind,  and  I  believed,  notwithstand- 
ing my  wretched  experience,  that  he  was  my 
friend.  One  evening  I  was  surprised  by  a  visit 
from  the  man,  who  informed  me  that  it  was  his 
practice  to  call  occasionally  on  his  employes.  I 
swallowed  that  also,  without  the  least  suspicion." 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

JOU  can  understand,  madam,"  continued 
the  heart-broken  woman,  "how  very 
easy  it  was  for  me  to  be  imposed  upon. 
The  descent  from  affluence  had  been  so  sudden 
that  I  could  not  realize  the  poverty  and  disgrace 
it  had  entailed  upon  me.  I  had  been  guilty  of 
no  sin  except  that  of  leaving  my  parents  for  the 
man  I  loved;  and  it  took  a  good  many  hard 
knocks  to  enable  me  to  comprehend  that  a  woman 
toiling  every  day  for  her  bread  and  butter  was 
not  a  fit  candidate  for  respectable  society.  So 
when  Mr. called  upon  me  in  a  friendly  man- 
ner, stating  that  ever  since  he  had  been  in  busi- 
ness he  had  made  it  a  practice  to  call  occasionally 
on  his  employes,  how  could  I  be  expected  to 
look  through  the  crust  of  deceit  and  treachery 
that  enveloped  the  man,  and  read  the  depravity 

hidden  away  in  his  black  soul  •    He  represented 

(43) 


44  UP  BROADWAY. 

himself  as  a  Christian,  too ;  invited  me  to  go  to  a 
Methodist  conference  meeting,  desired  to  know 
if  I  had  ever  been  converted,  and  if  I  considered 
my  calling  and  election  sure,  etc.  On  one  occa- 
sion he  prayed  with  me  most  earnestly.  This 
state  of  things  continued  several  weeks,  during 
which  time  I  made  excellent  wages,  and  got  on 
comfortably.  But  Heaven  only  knows  how  un- 
happy I  was.  One  evening  the  old  woman  I 
boarded  with  was  away  to  church,  and  my  em- 
ployer called.  I  had  never  before  been  a 
moment  alone  with  him.  Something,  I  scarcely 
knew  what,  had  always  kept  me  from  lighting 
him  to  the  door,  although  he  had  once  or  twice 
especially  requested  it.  This  evening  I  had  cried 
until,  fearful  of  spoiling  my  work,  I  laid  it  away; 
and  when  I  recognized  his  knock  upon  the  door,  a 
peculiar  warning,  or  premonition  of  evil,  caused 
the  cold  perspiration  to  stand  in  great  beads 
upon  my  face.  His  greeting  was  polite  and 
unexceptionable.  I  became  in  a  measure  as- 
sured. He  rallied  me  upon  my  swollen  eyes, 
reasoned  with  me  in  regard  to  the  utter  useless- 
ness  and  folly  of  tears,  assured  me  that  I  should 


UP  BROADWAY.  45 

always  have  a  friend  in  him,  and  ended  by  draw- 
ing his  chair  closer  to  mine,  and  inquiring  in 
low  tones  if  I  had  not  seen,  from  the  very  com- 
mencement, that  his  feelings  toward  me  were  not 
the  ordinary  feelings  of  friendship,  but  a  deeper, 
truer,  more  passionate  yearning  than  this  word 
could  ever  suggest?  I  started  back  in  horror. 
Then  light  commenced  to  dawn. 

"  <  Do  not  be  afraid  of  me,  Mary/  he  urged  in 
the  low,  hissing  tones  of  a  serpent.  *  You  shall 
never  take  another  stitch — never  do  another 
day's  work;  you  shall  be  mine  to  care  for — 
mine  to  keep  ;  you  shall  have  your  own  earnings, 
and  be  mistress  of  your  own  establishment,  and 
baby  shall  be  to  me  as  my  own  child.' 

"'Have  I  not  heard  you,  Mr. speak  of 

your  wife  on  several  occasions?'  I  inquired, 
with  as  much  calmness  as  I  could  assume. 

" '  Why,  of  course  you  have,  you  little  simple- 
ton ;  but  didn't  you  know  that  it  is  all  the  fash- 
ion for  men  and  their  wives  to  hate  each  other 
cordially,  and  seek  each  their  own  pleasure  in 
their  own  peculiar  way?  If  you  don't,  let  me 
enlighten  yon.  My  wife  does  just  as  she 


46  UP  BROADWAY. 

pleases.  I  never  question,  and  vice  versa.  I 
loved  you,  Mary,  as  soon  as  I  saw  you.  Now 
tell  me  that  you  will  allow  me  to  remove  you 
from  this  horrible  place  to-morrow.' 

"  I  looked  at  myself  in  the  old  woman's  quaint 
little  mirror,  and  wondered  that  I  didn't  fall 
dead  at  the  man's  feet.  There  I  stood,  the 
heart-broken  victim  of  one  wealthy  New  York 
merchant,  dishonored  and  disgraced;  and  now, 
before  the  iron  in  my  soul  had  had  time  to  cool 
in  the  least,  another  of  the  same  profession  makes 
similar  overtures.  Aye,  but  I  loved  the  first — 
how  well  Omniscience  only  knows.  Whether  I 
should,  had  I  discovered  his  treachery  before  our 
mock  marriage,  I  am  unable  to  say,  but  this 
much  I  do  know — that  this  moment,  with  the 
whole  wretched  past  looming  up  before  me — the 
years  of  suffering  and  ignominy — I  love  him 
better  than  all  above  or  below.  But  this  man, 
my  employer,  I  detested.  His  glowing  picture 
of  a  life  of  luxury  only  filled  me  with  dis- 
gust. It  was  no  virtue  to  resist,  for  a  crust 
alone  would  have  brought  to  me  greater  comfort 
than  all  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  shared  with  him. 


UP  BROADWAY.  tf 

Summoning  all  my  courage,  I  said  to  the  villain, 
who  had  never  taken  his  eyes  from  my  face,  evi- 
dently striving  to  bring  all  his  magnetic  power 
to  bear  upon  my  peculiar  temperament — 

" '  Sir,  I  am  astonished  that  a  man  occupying 
your  position  in  society,  representing  himself  as  a 
Christian  gentleman,  should  so  far  forget  what 
belongs  to  decency.  I  scorn  both  you  and  your 
proposal ;  and  now  do  me  the  kindness  to  leave 
the  house  immediately.  Not  a  word,'  I  contin- 
ued, as  he  seemed  inclined  to  argue  the  point. 
He  attempted  to  seize  my  hand.  I  saw  from  the 
frenzied  look  on  his  face  that  the  man  had  deter- 
mined to  do  me  harm;  so,  taking  advantage  of  a 
moment's  hesitation  on  his  part,  I  sprang  to  the 
door,  opened  it,  and  never  stopped  until  I  had 
reached  the  street  and  hidden  myself  in  a  neigh- 
boring area,  and  there  waited  for  him  to  come 
out.  In  a  moment  or  two  he  passed,  and  I  ran 
back  to  my  little  room,  locked  the  door,  and 
waited,  in  a  state  of  mind  impossible  to  describe, 
for  the  arrival  of  my  old  friend. 

"<Ah,  child!'  said  she,  'I  could  ha'  told  you  so. 
Heigho!  That's  the  way  with  all  the  big  bugs! 


48  UP  BROADWAY. 

A  woman's  virtue  is  no  more  account  to  'em  than 
the  dirt  under  their  feet;  and  you  have  lost  your 
nice  work  too;  mark  my  words,  child.  He'll 
hunt  you  down;  a  disappointed  man  is  worse 
than  a  baffled  beast,  because  he's  got  what  the 
beast  haint,  reason  to  back  him.' 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  the  work ;  but  now  what 
should  I  do?  No  one  would  make  a  favorite  of 
me,  and  give  me  choice  work  and  ample  remu- 
neration, unless  he  had  his  own  selfish  and  lust- 
ful desires  to  gratify.  What  wonder  that  I  could 
see  nothing  but  desolation  before  me  ?  I  finished 
the  work  I  had  on  hand,  and  returned  it,  re- 
cieved  from  the  book-keeper  my  money,  and  was 
politely  informed  that  my  services  were  no 
longer  needed.  I  had  saved  up  thirty  dollars, 
and,  with  this  to  depend  upon,  I  hunted  for 
employment.  Shirts  from  six  to  ten  cents  apiece 
was  the  best  I  could  find,  and  with  this  I  had  to 
be  content.  My  little  fund  was  at  last  all  gone 
—  and  work  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  as  long  as  I 
could,  I  was  not  able  to  earn  enough  to  pay  our 
board.  The  old  woman  was  a  good,  kind  soul, 
and  for  three  or  four  weeks  did  all  in  her  power 


UP  BROADWAY.  49 

to  encourage  me ;  but  she  had  no  income  except 
that  obtained  by  fine  washing  and  ironing  for  a 
few  families.  One  day  she  was  taken  seriously 
ill,  and  my  baby  also.  Neither  of  us  had  a  cent 
of  money.  The  next  day  both  invalids  were 
worse.  I  went  to  the  different  stores  where 
we  were  accustomed  to  buy  our  provisions, 
hoping  they  would  trust  me,  but  met  with  no 
success.  In  despair  I  begged,  but  no  one  would 
listen  to  me.  Evening  came  again,  and,  what 
with  my  long  fast  and  dreadfully  nervous  con- 
dition, I  had  no  milk  for  my  baby  ;  and  my  old 
friend  lay  groaning,  and  almost  dying  for  the 
comforts  of  life.  I  started  out  again,  this  time 
determined  to  return  with  food  and  medicine. 
I  went  into  a  corner  grocery,  watched  my  oppor- 
tunity, hid  a  loaf  of  bread  under  my  shawl,  and 
slipped  out.  I  had  not  got  a  block  from  the 
store,  when  a  policeman  clapped  his  hand  upon 
my  shoulder,  and,  with  'Come  with  me,  miss,' 
led  the  way  to  the  station-house,  where  I  was 
locked  up  for  the  night. " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

[I !  what  a  night  of  horror  was  that ! 
I  told  the  policeman  who  took  me  to 
the  dreadful  place  that  I  had  a  starv- 
ing infant  at  home,  and  my  only  friend  was 
dying  for  want  of  care  and  medicine.  I  failed 
to  make  the  least  impression  upon  the  stony- 
hearted man. 

" '  Come  along,  now ;  step  up  lively ;  might  as 
well  save  your  gab,'  were  the  only  replies  he 
vouchsafed  me.  Once  I  tried  to  run  away  from 
him,  but  he  grasped  my  wrist  with  his  iron  hand 
until  I  cried  out  wfth  pain,  and  then  laughed 
heartily  at  my  suffering.  Did  you  ever  " —  and 
her  dark  eyes  sought  mine  wistfully — "see  the 
inside  of  a  station-house  of  an  evening?  I 
realized  by  my  own  wretchedness  before  this, 
the  fearful  amount  of  suffering  there  must  be  in 
the  world,  but  this  experience  shut  and  bolted  a 


UP  BROADWAY.  51 

door  in  my  soul  that  I  do  not  believe  will  ever 
be  opened  again  in  this  world  or  the  next.  It 
hardened  me.  Talk  about  hell,"  she  continued, 
rising  and  pacing  the  floor  as  these  terrible 
memories  again  assumed  life  and  shape.  "  New 
York  City  is  full  of  purgatories,  and  the  station- 
houses  are  not  among  the  least  of  them.  About 
ten  o'clock  a  pleasant-faced  policeman  came  in, 
and  looked  around  at*  the  strange  crowd,  it 
seemed  to  me,  with  an  expression  which  had 
some  humanity  in  it,  if  not  pity.  I  beckoned 
for  him  to  come  to  me,  and  I  told  him  my 
trouble.7 

"'Then  you  really  took  the  loaf  of  bread  ? '  he 
asked. 

"'Oh,  yes,  sir,'  I  replied.  'I  took  it  because 
I  had  no  money  to  pay  for  it,  and  we  were  all 
starving.' 

"'Poor  child,'  he  said,  musingly.  'Give  me 
your  number,  and  I'll  stop  there  as  I  go  down 
and  take  them  something  to  eat.  It  is  not  likely 
that  the  Dutchman  will  appear  against  you  in 
the  morning,  and  you'll  get  home  in  pretty  good 
season ; '  and  then  he  went  out  and  returned  in 


52  UP  BROADWAY. 

• 

a  moment  with  a  piece  of  gingerbread,  which  I 
can  tell  you  I  was  very  thankful  for.  c  Now,' 
said  he, '  I  will  be  at  your  house  in  ten  minutes 
and  will  make  it  all  right  with  the  old  woman 
and  baby.'  Oh,  I  hope,"  she  continued,  tears 
rolling  down  her  cheeks,  "  that  I  shall  sometime 
have  it  in  my  power  to  repay  that  policeman  !  or 
at  least  let  him  know  how  heartily  I  appreciated 
his  kindness.  Oh,%  my  friend,  such  men  are 
few  and  far  between.  I  thought  it  would 
never  be  morning,  and  then  it  seemed  to  me  I 
should  never  be  called  to  court,  but  after  a  while 
fifteen  or  twenty  women  were  placed  in  march- 
ing order,  and  I  one  of  the  number,  arrested  for 
taking  a  loaf  of  bread,  which  I  could  neither  beg 
nor  purchase.  As  the  policeman  had  hinted,  no 
accuser  came,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  I  was 
dismissed.  It  did  seem  to  me  that  I  should 
never  live  to  reach  home,  short  as  the  distance 
was.  My  baby  lay  on  the  bed  by  the  side  of  the 
old  woman.  A  porringer  containing  some  milk, 
with  which  the  good  old  soul  had  fed  the  little 
one,  with  some  crumbs  of  bread,  were  also  beside 
her.  My  baby  laughed  and  held  up  her  tiny 


UP  BROADWAY.  53 

hands  as  I  entered,  and  in  my  gladness  to  find 
that  all  was  well  with  the  darling;  I  pressed  her 
a  moment  to  my  heart  without  bestowing  so 
much  as  a  glance  at  the  motionless  figure  of  my 
friend  !  Oh,  my  dear  madam,  when  I  did  look, 
I  thought  I  should  have  fallen  dead  to  the  floor  ! 
There  lay  the  only  friend  I  had  on  earth,  her 
hand  even  then  clutching  the  spoon  with  which 
she  had  kept  the  breath  of  life  in  my  baby,  her 
eyes  stony  and  wide  open,  and  not  one  trace  of 
life  visible  on  her  features  ;  her  hands  were  cold 
and  rigid.  Death  must  have  come  to  her  very 
gently  two  or  three  hours  previous.  I  called  for 
assistance,  and  after  a  while  got  together  two  or 
three  friends  of  the  old  woman's,  who  arranged 
everything  in  decency  and  in  order.  Tins 
paralyzed  me.  I  was  like  one  walking  in  a 
dream.  Whatever  I  did  was  performed  me- 
chanically. The  funeral  was  over,  the  body 
consigned  to  the  dirt  of  Potter's  Field,  the  few 
little  articles  of  furniture  sold  to  pay  expenses, 
and  I  found  myself  once  more,  with  my  infant 
in  my  arms,  without  a  friend  and  without  a 
dollar.  Several  families  offered  me  washing, 


54:  UP  BROADWAY. 

but  they  objected  to  the  baby.  I  knew  it  was 
useless  to  attempt  that  sort  of  work,  as  I  had 
never  done  a  day's  washing  in  my  life  and  of 
course  I  could  never  give  satisfaction.  I  walked 
around  for  two  days,  calling  at  different  houses, 
trying  to  obtain  a  chambermaid's  situation,  but 
no  one  wanted  an  unrecommended  female,  with 
a  helpless  little  one.  Well,  night  came  again. 
I  was  tired  and  hungry,  and  had  arrived  where 
I  cared  very  little  what  happened  to  me. 
I  begged.  No  one  noticed  me,  and  finally  I 
decided  to  jump  into  the  river.  I  turned  out 
of  Broadway  into  Cortlandt  street,  and  a  block 
down  met  a  handsomely-dressed  woman,  who 
very  kindly  stopped  at  my  call.  She  listened  to 
my  story,  and  told  me  to  follow  her,  and  she 
would  put  me  in  the  way  of  earning  my  own 
living,  and  a  good  one.  I  knew  what  she  meant, 
but  I  didn't  care.  There  was  nothing  (this  I 
solemnly  swear)  between  that  and  a  double  crime 
—  suicide  and  murder.  This  was  the  only  thing, 
my  friend,  God  had  left  for  me  to  do,  and  I 
accepted  it  gladly.  There  now,  don't  shudder 
so,"  as  a  convulsive  tremor  passed  over  me. 


UP  BROADWAY.  55 

"  Hunger  and  cold  and  death  are  wonderfully 
strong  provocations  to  this  description  of  sin. 
I  accepted  it  gladly,  because  there  was  nothing 
else  under  heaven  I  could  do  to  save  my  own 
and  my  child's  life,  and  hundreds  of  women  are 
yearly  driven  to  prostitution  and  the  w^ages  of 
sin  for  the  same  reason.  Well,  I  went  home 
with  the  stranger,  found  everything  in  splendid 
style,  a  large  drawing-room  elegantly  furnished, 
and  all  the  apparent  paraphernalia  of  wealth. 
My  baby  was  given  into  the  hands  of  a  nurse, 
and  the  mistress  of  the  establishment  superin- 
tended my  toilet.  I  can  tell  you  I  was  dazzlingly 
arrayed  and  well  fed.  I  was  draped  in  the 
costliest  of  silks  and  the  fleeciest  of  laces. 
Diamonds  sparkled  from  my  -neck  and  fingers, 
and  as  I  gazed  at  myself  in  the  full-length 
mirror  I  wondered  at  my  own  beauty.  I  saw  the 
woman  pour  a  drop  or  two  of  some  white  liquid 
into  the  fragrant  coffee,  but  I  din't  know  what  it 
was,  and  didn't  care.  Oh,  how  my  cheeks 
burned  and  eyes  glowed  after  that  meal.  Had 
I  been  sipping  nectar  from  the  ambrosial  fount, 
or  suddenly  transported  into  some  tropical  clime, 


56  UP  BROADWAY. 

where  everything  was  love  and  beauty,  I  could 
not  have  experienced  more  ecstatic  sensations. 
I  was  taken  to  the  parlors  and  formally  intro- 
duced as  Miss  Belle  Hosmer.  I  played  the 
piano,  danced,  sung  and  coquetted,  and  was,  of 
course,  the  feature  of  the  evening.  It  is  no  use 
to  go  on.  The  next  morning  found  me  sorrowful 
and  conscience-stricken,  and  unable  to  look  into 
the  innocent  eyes  of  my  baby.  But  my  virtue 
was  gone.  I  had  sold  it  for  something  to  eat 
and  a  shelter.  It  was  too  late  to  retract,  and 
what  if  I  did  ?  There  was  nothing  else  in  life 
for  me.  From  that  time  to  this,  weary,  heart- 
sick, cursing  my  existence,  I  have  practiced  this 
dreadful  business,  but  never  once,  so  help  me 
Heaven,  because  it  afforded  me  pleasure.  Now, 
you  have  it  all,  and  I  suppose  realize  how  useless 
it  will  be  to  think  of  such  a  thing  as  reformation. 
I  am  so  grateful  to  you  for  your  kindness  and 
sympathy  —  but  —  but " — 

"No  buts  in  the  case,"  I  replied  cheerfully. 
"  Now  let  me  talk." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

j|OU  know,  as  well  as  you  know  that 
you  have  life  and  feeling,  that  the 
course  you  have  pursued  for  the  last 
few  years  is  not  only  destructive  to  the  body, 
which  God  gave  you  to  care  for  and  keep  pure, 
but  also  destructive  to  your  soul.  By  soul,  I  mean 
the  higher,  more  exalted  portion  of  your  nature. 
Anything  from  which  our  understanding  and 
heart  revolt  we  should  avoid,  even  if  in  so  doing 
we  die  daily  and  at  last  literally.  I  believe,  as 
you  say,  that  hundreds  of  women  are  driven  to 
prostitution  from  the  effects  of  want,  grim  hun- 
ger, and  cold,  and  therefore  have  not  a  word  to  say 
in  regard  to  your  past  life;  but  the  present 
is  mine.  In  a  strange  but  loving  manner, 
Heaven  has  directed  my  steps  in  your  direc- 
tion, and  I  cannot — will  not — leave  you  to  fol- 
low a  business  which  must  send  you  to  your 

(57) 


58  UP  BROADWAY. 

grave  dishonored,  leaving  only  a  heritage  of 
infamy  to  your  dear  little  daughter." 

"  There  is  no  help  for  it,"  she  sighed.  "  Grate- 
ful as  I  am  for  your  sympathy  and  kindness,  I  can 
make  no  promises.  God  knows,  I  would  be  glad 
to  do  differently,  but  what  is  there  in  life  for  a 
woman  after  she  has  once  fallen  ?  You  know  too 
well  that  her  course  is  down,  down,  forever  down. 
Society  allows  her  no  alternative." 

"But  you  have  set  aside  all  social  laws  in  the 
past,  why  not  ignore  conventionalisms  still  fur- 
ther, by  daring  to  turn  your  back  upon  all  such  in- 
fluences, and  by  respecting  yourself  ?  Let  society 
go  its  own  way,  where  your  conscience  and  com- 
mon-sense approve.  Why  should  you  care  what 
the  world  says  or  does?  You  certainly  are  not 
mindful  of  its  requirements  now;  a  pure  life  need 
make  you  no  more  so;  and  just  remember,  as  I 
have  told  you  before,  that  you  have  no  right  to 
expect  anything  from  social  etiquette,  excepting 
so  far  as  you  conform  to  social  rules.  Notwith- 
standing your  intimacy  with  sin,  it  would,  I  know, 
grieve  you  fearfully,  did  you  think  that  Mary 
would  ever  be  led  to  follow  in  your  footsteps." 


UP  BROADWAY.  59 

"  Oli,  God  forbid ! "  she  moaned,  clasping  her 
hands  convulsively. 

"Well,  then,  yon  certainly  cannot  blame  other 
mothers  for  wishing  to  keep  their  daughters  away 
from  influences  which  they  know  to  be  unhal- 
lowed. It  is  right  for  them  to  be  thus  particular! " 

"Why  not  put  the  boot  on  the  other  foot  a 
while?"  she  queried.  "Women  are  only  fearful 
about  those  of  their  own  sex.  It  doesn't  matter 
to  them  how  many  libertines  they  entertain;" 
and  now  her  eyes  flashed  fire.  "  The  more  con- 
quests a  man  has  made,  the  more  ruins  he  has  ef- 
fected, the  better  his  recommendation  to  genteel 
society;  but  his  victims — where  are  they?  A 
reformed  rake,  so  an  old  writer  puts  it,  'makes 
the  best  kind  of  husband,'  but  who  ever  heard 
of  a  reformed  prostitute  making  a  good  wife? 
Pshaw!  how  ridiculous  to  talk  on  so  one-sided 
and  unjust  a  subject.  I  tell  you,  madam,  there 
is  no  chance  for  a  woman  in  the  world." 

"  I  have  thought  this  matter  over  thousands  of 
times,  and  deplored  the  existence  of  such  a  state 
of  things  in  this  enlightened  and  intelligent  age, 
but  this  is  my  rock,"  I  replied.  "  And  it  is  a  glo- 


60  UP  BROADWAY. 

rious  one  to  anchor  to.  It  is  none  of  onr  busi- 
ness what  Tom,  Dick,  or  Harry  does,  how  much 
sin  they  are  guilty  of,  or  how  much  their  commis- 
sions are  winked  at,  but  it  is  our  business  what  we 
ourselves  are  guilty  of,  because,  in  a  large  sense 
of  the  word,  we  are  our  own  keepers,  and  conse- 
quently our  responsibility  can  scarcely  be  esti- 
mated. We  must  leave  off  thinking  of  other 
people's  digressions  from  rectitude,  and  the  man- 
ner in  which  such  digressions  are  received,  and 
weed  the  garden  of  our  own  souls  carefully,  not 
forgetting  all  the  time  to  sow  the  seeds  of  charity. 
Thus  we  shall  be  enabled  to  do  ourselves  and 
others  justice." 

"  A  very  good  doctrine  to  preach,"  she  answer- 
ed; "but  I  am  fearful  it  will  hardly  work  well. 
You  never  were  tempted ;  you  never  were  tried ; 
you  never  were  hungry  and  cold;  you  never  had 
a  little  one  crying  for  food  you  were  unable  to 
furnish.  What  do  you  know  of  the  awful  ills  of 
life?  Delicately  reared,  well  cared  for,  sheltered 
from  every  rough  wind,  how  can  you  judge  for 
me?"  and  now  the  lines  around  the  sufferer's 
mouth  grew  hard  and  ominously  distinct. 


UP  BROADWAY.  61 

Notwithstanding  the  unquiet  look  on  my 
friend's  face,  I  could  not  refrain  from  smiling, 
as  I  remembered  how  sorrow  and  keen  soul- 
trials  sometimes  develop  selfishness,  and  I 
went  back  four  years  before,  to  my  own  heart- 
ache, my  own  dark  hours,  and — as  I  then 
thought — unparalleled  wretchedness,  and  re- 
called the  tempests  of  passion,  the  fearful  strug- 
gles between  desire  to  leave  a  world  I  consid- 
ered so  unfairly  governed,  and  the  duty  I 
owed  to  the  life  a  higher  Power  had  given  me 
to  nourish  and  care  for.  She  saw  my  smile, 
and,  with  her  peculiarly  keen  intuition,  re- 
marked eagerly : 

"  Your  expression  says,  <  I  do  know  some- 
thing of  the  storms  of  life.'  Tell  me,  dear 
madam,  have  you  ever  suffered  any  sorrow 
that  can  be  compared  to  mine  ? " 

I  realized  that  a  leaf  from  my  own  ex- 
perience would  be  of  use,  and  replied : 

"  Like  you  I  have  been  hungry  and  cold. 
I  have  not  only  put  one  babe  to  bed  unfed, 
but  four  precious  little  ones.  Like  you  I 
have  had  no  shelter.  Our  histories  differ  es- 


62  UP  BROADWAY. 

sentially ;  but  I  truly  believe  that  there  has 
been  as  much  wormwood  and  gall  compressed 
into  a  few  years  of  my  life  as  into  your 
own,  sad  as  I  realize  your  case  to  have  been." 

"And  yet  you  maintained  your  own  self- 
respect?"  she  half  queried  and  half  affirmed, 
bursting  into  tears. 

".Yes,  my  dear,  not  only  my  'own  self 
respect,'  but  have  lived  to  thank  God  for 
those  moments  of  auguish,  realizing  fully  the 
good  they  have  done  me.  Nothing  can  de- 
velop a  nature  like  sorrow.  Sunshine  may  do 
for  a  while,  but  the  land  which  does  not  receive 
the  pelting  storm  as  well  as  the  gentle  dew  never 
amounts  to  much,  and  its  grain  is  not  worth  the 
last  threshing." 

Just  then  I  heard  some  one  run  quickly  up 
stairs ;  saw  my  companion's  cheek  pale,  and  in  a 
second  she  had  started  for  the  door ;  but  she  was 
too  late.  The  visitor  entered  hurriedly.  I  looked 
up  and  recognized  (how  I  should  like  to  write  his 
name  in  letters  of  fire)  a  MINISTER,  a  man  who 
professes  belief  in  the  hottest  kind  of  eternal 
damnation,  and  whose  pleasure  it  is  to  shake  his 


UP  BROADWAY.  63 

congregation  over  the  bottomless  pit  on  all  occa- 
sions. For  a  moment  he  was  speechless.  Then 
his  old  hypocritical  manner  returned,  and  with  it 
his  self-possession. 

"  Oh  !  good  afternoon,"  he  blarneyed,  walking 
toward  me  with  outstretched  hand,  which,  by  the 
way,  I  didn't  see,  just  about  then.  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  meet  you  here."  Then,  turning  to  the 
agitated  woman,  who  was  still  standing  by  the 
door,  he  said,  blandly:  "Mary,  I  have  come  to 
see  if  you  could  make  me  a  dozen  shirts."  Then, 
looking  around  to  my  corner,  continued,  while 
his  eyes  rested  everywhere  but  upon  my  face :  "I 
have  been  interested  for  some  time  in  this  young 
woman,  and  have  striven  to  do  her  what  little 
good  lay  in  my.  power,  and  " 

"  And,"  said  I,  taking  up  the  little  conjunction, 

"  it  is  entirely  unnecessary  for  the  Rev.  Mr.  — 

to  add  another  lie  to  his  already  overflowing  list. 
I  perfectly  understand  the  nature  of  your  business 
here  this  afternoon ;  and  do  me  the  favor  to  leave 
immediately.  Mary  is  my  exclusive  property 
now,  and  desires  never  to  see  your  face  again." 


OHAPTEE  IX. 

|  HE  clergyman  made  a  hasty  exit,  leaving 
me  in  a  perfect  whirlwind  of  rage.  It 
was  distressing  enough  to  think  that 
men  who  stood  high  as  merchants  and  citizens 
should  thus  seek  to  ruin  both  body  and  soul  of 
the  woman  I  was  anxious  to  befriend,  and,  if 
possible,  save ;  but  to  realize  that  men  wearing 
God's  livery,  and  professing  to  be  interested  for 
the  salvation  of'  all  mankind,  could  thus  desire 
to  prey  upon  the  lambs  of  the  fold,  was  some- 
thing which  my  graceless  nature  could  neither 
understand  nor  forgive. 

Since  then  I  have  believed  in  total  depravity, 
everlasting  destruction,  and  a  host  of  terrible 
theological  Scyllas,  which  my  little  -religious 
yacht — notwithstanding  the  head- wind  and  tide 
it  had  been  compelled  to  buffet  —  had  always 
steered  clear  of.  But  now,  where  was  I?  In  a 


UP  BROADWAY.  65 

malestrom  of  doubt  and  suspicion ;  for  such  ex- 
periences are  enough  to  make  one  lose  faith  in 
all  humanity. 

It  was  some  time  after  the  villain  left  before  a 
word  was  spoken.  Mary  was  first  to  break  the 
silence. 

"  I  am  not  sorry  this  has  happened,"  she  said 
evidently  only  half  understanding  my  enraged 
expression. 

"Did  you  know  that  man  was  a  so-called 
minister  of  the  gospel  ? "  I  inquired,  looking  into 
the  eyes  which  had  been  full  of  tears  ever  since 
the  arrival  of  her  visitor. 

"  I  did,"  she  replied. 

"And  you  knew  his  real  name?" 

"I  did." 

"He  did  not  attempt  to  deceive  you,  then?" 

"  Please  do  not  ask  me  any  more  questions ! " 
she  answered,  beseechingly.  "  But  you  might 
just  as  well  make  up  your  mind  that  the  most  of 
the  godliness  professed  by  these  pious  folks  is  a 
sham.  My  experience  taught  me  that  a  good 
while  ago,  and,  as  you  may  imagine,  I  know  con- 
siderable about  it  by  this  time — more,  probably, 


66  UP  BROADWAY. 

than  you  ever  will.  It  is  only  necessary  to  make 
a  stunning  profession,  and  then  the  hypocrite, 
entirely  covered  by  his  long  cloak,  looks  one 
thing  and  practices  another,  and  gets  the  credit 
of  being  a  meek  and  lowly  Christian.  Discour- 
aging, isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  Mary,"  I  replied,  "it  is  discouraging; 
facts  like  these  are  enough  to  drive  one  wild;  but 
I  am  thankful  I  happened  to  be  here.  The 
wretch  wont  have  much  peace  of  mind  for  a 
while,  I  reckon." 

"Probably  he  will  be  somewhat  alarmed  for 
his  reputation,"  said  Mary.  "  But  reflection  will 
soon  convince  him  that  his  artillery  is  too  heavy 
for  you  to  interfere  with." 

That  wras  undoubtedly  so,  and  the  thought 
wras  driven  home  to  my  soul. 

Of  what  earthly  use  is  it  for  one  poor,  weak 
woman  to  make  war  against  immorality!  It 
seemed  to  me  on  that  occasion  like  throwing 
straws  against  the  wind,  and  in  my  heart-aching 
perplexity  I  felt  very  much  like  abandoning  the 
ship.  To  add  to  my  misery,  my  companion,  who 
had  scarcely  taken  her  eyes  from  my  face  since 
the  villain's  exit,*  remarked,  — 


UP  BROADWAY.  67 

"  The  more,  my  dear  lady,  you  lift  the  curtain 
which  has  hitherto  shut  out  these  unpleasant 
pictures,  the  more  harassed  and  perplexed  you 
will  become ;  and  I  see  now,  by  your  weary,  dis- 
tressed expression,  that  you  realize  the  utter  im- 
possibility of  making  any  headway  in  the  work 
you  have  undertaken.  Let  me  advise  you  a  little 
now.  You  are  a  mother,  with  children,  the  most 
of  them  boys.  To  make  them  what  you  desire 
will  certainly  require  all  the  time  you  can  spare 
from  earning  their  bread  and  butter.  Then,  you 
are  not  physically  strong,  and  your  health  conse- 
quently needs  the  tenderest  care,  if  you  would 
live  to  see  your  children  grown  and  educated. 
Now  this  work — noble  and  glorious  though  it  be ! 
—  is  not  for  you.  You  are  too  sensitive,  and 
your  sympathies  are  too  easily  enlisted;  besides, 
the  views  of  life  which  these  pictures  disclose 
will  have  a  tendency  to  make  you  distrustful, 
and,  for  that  reason,  dreadfully  uncomfortable. 
My  dear  lady,  I  am  more  thankful  for  the  kind- 
ness and  real  love  you  have  shown  me  than  I  can 
ever  express,  and  really  have  too  much  regard 
for  yourself  and  your  precious  little  ones  not  to 


68  UP  BROADWAY. 

warn  you  that  no  good  will  ever  result  to  your- 
self from  these  efforts  in  this  world,  and  as  for 
the  next,  I  don't  believe  much  about  it.  If  I 
could  see  the  least  particle  of  justice  anywhere 
I  should  not  be  thus  sceptical." 

"Lord,  let  me  not  be  discouraged!"  was  my 
especial  prayer  on  that  occasion.  "Give  me 
strength  to  battle  for  the  right !  Give  me  power 
to  be  heard !  Make  the  woman  before  me  power- 
less to  resist  the  influence  I  am  endeavoring  to 
sustain,  and,  above  all  things,  let  me  be  constant, 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  in  my  strivings  to  be 
of  benefit  to  the  down-trodden  and  fallen  of  my 
own  sex ! " 

"  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  very  thankful  to  the 
man  for  showing  me  so  plainly  the  strength  of 
the  fortification  I  seek  to  demolish,"  I  remarked, 
after  she  had  finished  speaking.  "  I  shall 
probably  be  able  to  look  at  this  matter  more 
philosophically  after  a  while ;  and  now,  Mary,  for 
yourself.  Whatsoever  my  hands  find  to  do,  that, 
with  God's  help,  I  mean  to  do.  He  must  have 
directed  my  steps  here;  and  please  look  me  in 
the  face  while  I  tell  you  that  I  have  determined 


UP  BROADWAY.  69 

that  nothing  shall  send  me  from  you  until  I  have 
accomplished  my  desires,  unless  it  be  your  own 
determination." 

"  Then  you  will  never  go,"  she  replied,  deeply 
affected.  "  But  I  have  spoken  for  your  own  good 
and  comfort.  You  must  remember,  my  friend, 
that  I  have  tried  everything  within  the  scope  of 
my  ability — have  used  every  means  in  my 
power  before  I  arrived  at  this  dreadful  place  —  to 
earn  a  decent  living  for  myself  and  child  ;  and  as 
true  as  we  both  live,  just  so  true,  I  did  not  come 
to  prostitution  because  I  liked  it,  but  because,  as 
I  have  told  you  several  times  before,  there  was 
nothing  else  left.  If  there  was  nothing  then  — 
then,  before  I  had  fallen  —  what  can  there  be 
now  ? "  and  a  sad  smile  illumined  the  intelligent 
face.  "  You  are  a  very  agreeable  lunatic,  my 
dear,  but  a  lunatic,  nevertheless !  " 

"  If  I  will  see  that  you  are  provided  with 
means  to  live  —  with  remunerative  employment, 
will  you  stop,  and  keep  out  of  this  infamous 
business  ? "  I  inquired,  noting  every  change  that 
passed  over  her  countenance. 

"How  can  you  ask  me  such  a  question?"  she 


70  UP  BROADWAY. 

inquired,  hastily  rising  and  crossing  the  room. 
*  Don't  you  see  that  I  abhor  the  life  ?  Merciful 
God — yes!"  she  ejaculated,  clasping  her  hands 
prayerfully.  "  And  can  you  do  this  ?  " 

"  I  can,  and  I  will !  " 

One  quick,  impetuous,  thankful  cry,  and  my 
companion  was  close  in  my  embrace.  "  Woman 
fashion,"  methinks  I  hear  some  of  you  say. 
Yes,  woman  fashion  —  and  angel  fashion  this 
time — for  I  know  that  hosts  of  the  bright- winged 
messengers  looked  down  and  smiled,  and  that 
the  Good  Father  himself  was  glad. 


GHAPTEK  X. 

1  HE  promise  I  had  desired  to  gain  was 
mine,  and,  as  I  bade  my  newly-found 
friends  good-by  for  a  day  or  two,  my 
feelings  were  of  a  decidedly  mixed  character. 
Thankfulness  was,  of  course,  predominant ;  but, 
to  save  my  life,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the 
man  who  drew  the  largest  prize  in  that  lottery 
we  have  all  heard  so  much  about — that  mythical 
elephant,  the  height  of  the  poor  fellow's  ambi- 
tion, but  so  awkward  to  handle. 

I  had  started  out  one  day  to  gain  some  infor- 
mation from  beggars,  determined  to  question  all 
who  approached  me,  and,  as  a  friendly  paper 
remarked, "  went  home  with  the  first  one  met." 
The  journal  refrained  from  saying,  "woman 
fashion."  It  was  a  male  (Mail)  editor,  too,  who 
stopped  thus  considerately  short  in  his  criticism, 
and  I  shall  always  admire  him  for  his  self-denial. 

(71) 


72  -UP  BROADWAY. 

Well,  when  I  arrived  home,  I  surveyed  my 
little  family  ("  little  "  in  this  case  is  a  word  not  at 
all  meant  fora  descriptive  adjective)  and  wondered 
what  I  should  do  first.  I  had  realized  from  the 
beginning  how  difficult  it  would  be  to  provide 
remunerative  work  for  one  so  totally  unskilled  in 
every  department  of  labor.  I  knew  that  it  would 
be  a  long  time  (perhaps  never)  before  she  could 
support  herself ;  and,  with  her  independent  ideas, 
I  saw  plainly  that  not  a  little  finesse  would 
have  to  be  practiced,  if  I  would  have  the  object 
of  my  solicitude  comfortable.  To  interest  my 
friends  in  the  case  would  involve  too  much  pub- 
licity at  this  critical  juncture. 

"  Do  not,  please  do  not,  bring  any  one  to  see 
me ! "  was  her  especial  prayer,  and  who  could  but 
respect  the  extremely  natural  wish !  I  hadn't  a 
friend  but  would  believe  every  incident  I  might 
relate  to  them — but  would  help  me  in  caring  for 
these  new  responsibilities;  still,  it  would  cer- 
tainly be  very  unfair  not  to  allow  them  a  glimpse 
of  the  person  they  would  benefit.  So,  after  ma- 
ture deliberation,  I  concluded  (this  time  not 
"  woman  fashion  ")  to  keep  the  story  to  myself, 


UP  BROADWAY.  73 

and  try  three  or  four  brokers  who  had  previously 
come  to  my  rescue  in  cases  of  destitution. 

The  woman's  whole  condition  must  be  changed. 
Her  surroundings  must  undergo  an  immediate 
and  thorough  transformation ;  and,  as  I  put  down 
the  figures  in  my  little  account-book,  reckoning  up 
the  expense  of  coal,  wood,  a  new  carpet,  a  stove, 
flour,  hominy,  and  decent  clothes,  to  save  my 
life  I  couldn't  make  it  less  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  If  1#  omitted  my  daily  walk  and 
hour  or  so  of  conversation ;  if  I  retired  later 
and  rose  earlier,  —  it  would  take  a  long  time  to 
make  that  amount  over  and  above  my  own  large 
and  necessary  expenses.  To  cap  the  climax,  my 
four-year  old,  who  had  been  teasing  for  a  doll 
that  opened  its  eyes,  and  had  long,  curly,  real 
hair,  came  to  my  side  just  as  I  had  added  the  last 
domestic  necessity,  with,  — 

"Mamma,  when  may  I  have  my  doll-baby? 
Didn't  you  say  when  you  got  that  last  'tory 
done?"- 

"  Yes,  dear,"  I  answered,  and  wondering,  as  I 
kissed  her  rosy  lips,  if,  under  the  circumstances, 
the  darling  should  not  be  indefinitely  put  off.  Oh 


74  UP  BROADWAY. 

these  everlasting  questions  of  duty  and  inclina- 
tion !  Then  master  Joe,  a  young  autocrat  of  six, 
approached. 

"Mamma,  see  the  hole  that's  just  this  moment 
come  on  my  knee.  Mamma,  I  want  loots  next 
time.  Don't  you  remember  you  said  you'd  buy 
me  boots  when  these  were  worned  out  ?  but  look 
at  'em !  "  And  Josie's  shoe,  with  the  toe  entirely 
stubbed  out,  was  held  up  to  view. 

I  declare  if,  the  remainder  of  that  day,  every 
member  of  my  own  family,  and  every  person  of 
my  acquaintance  didn't  either  want  something 
that  I  was  expected  to  furnish,  or  else  had  unre- 
deemed promises  to  remind  me  of  !  I  believe.it 
is  always  thus. 

Some  one  will  probably  suggest  that  no  person 
is  excusable  for  attempting  to  take  more  of  a 
burden  upon  himself  than  he  is  able  to  carry. 
Perhaps  not ;  but  contact  with  the  rough  edges 
of  the  world  has  taught  me  this  much,  —  that  if 
our  poor,  sick,  and  imbecile  waited  for  the  strong 
and  wealthy  to  take  their  cases  in  hand,  they'd 
wait.  This  woman  and  child  I  had  accepted 
as  a  direct  present  from  the  hand  of  God,  and 


UP  BROADWAY.  75 

if  nothing  else  would  do,  I  would  divide  with 
her;  but  if  not,  it  could  be  avoided,  because,  as 
I  looked  at  the  flaxen  heads  ranged  around,  with 
their  toys  and  books,  and  noted  their  precious 
youthful  prattle,  I  understood  my  first  duty. 
And  so  I  thought  late  into  the  night,  and  the 
decision  my  heart  and  conscience  arrived  at  was 
to  go  begging  next  day,  and  raise  money  enough 
to  make  the  desired  improvement  in  my  friend's 
condition. 

I  wonder  if  every  one  hates  to  beg  as  I  do? 
Once,  in  the  extremest  want,  I  was  offered  a  so- 
liciting position  in  a  certain  suburban  church,  for 
which  said  church  would  fairly  remunerate  me. 
I  started,  "  solicited "  just  three  times,  and  re- 
turned to  the  worthy  deacon  with  my  letters  of  in- 
troduction, saying,  'mid  a  storm  of  tears  in  which 
I  am  forced  to  admit  there  was  quite  as  much 
temper  as  sorrow,  "  Sir,  I  am  much  obliged  to 
you ;  but  I'd  rather  starve,  freeze,  be  burnt  at  the 
stake,  and  suffer  a  pretty  warm  purgatory,  and" — 

"  Yes,  my  dear  madam,"  he  interrupted,  well 
understanding  my  vulnerable  spot.  "But  your 
children?" 


76  UP  BROADWAY. 

"I  don't  care !  I'll  put  every  one  of  them  in  an 
orphan  asylum,  and  take  in  house-cleaning,  before 
I'll  do  any  more  of  it."  And  I  walked  from  the 
deacon's  presence,  without  a  dollar  in  my  pocket. 
The  good  man  evidently  thought  me  a  proper 
candidate  for  Bloomingdale. 

I  wonder  how  folks  continually  do  so  many 
things  from  which  their  natures  revolt !  I  won- 
der if  it  will  always  be  so !  I  wonder  if  we  take 
poverty  and  misery  over  the  river  with  us  1 


CHAPTER  XL 

]HEEE  was  no  time  to  be  lost.  My  two 
newly-assumed  responsibilities  must  be 
cared  for,  and  that  immediately ;  so  the 
next  morning  I  started  for  "Wall  street  on  my 
"soliciting"  expedition.  The  men  whom  I 
most  relied  upon  for  aid  were  not  at  their  respec- 
tive offices.  "  On  the  street,"  I  was  informed : 
"Over  to  the  Stock  Exchange,"  "Be  in  pres- 
ently;" and  so  I  walked  on  to  the  corner  of 
Broad  and  Wall,  and  looked  down  on  to  the  sea 
of  black  hats  in  front  of  that  elegant  building 
around  which  Bulls  and  Bears  do  congregate, 
and  wished  that  it  were  possible  for  soul  to 
speak  to  soul  in  some  wordless  electrical  manner, 
and  that  the  owners  of  those  beavers  and  felts 
might  be  directed  to  file  past  the  apple-stand, 
by  which  I  stood  ruminating,  and,  sympathizing 
with  my  great  desire  to  aid  the  unfortunate, 

place  in  my  hands  plentiful  means  for  so  doing ; 

(77) 


78  UP   BROAD  WAT. 

and  for  a  moment,  forgetful  of  haste  and  neces- 
sity, I  stood  gazing  at  the  telegraph  wires  and 
considering  how  news  was  transmitted  from  in- 
dividual to  individual,  from  state  to  state,  and 
from  the  new  to  the  old  world,  and  marvelling 
at  the  genius  and  learning  which  had  brought 
the  widely  separated  into  such  intimate  and 
glorious  connection;  and  then  I  wondered  why 
a  man  or  woman  with  quick,  loving  sympathies, 
and  moral  earnestness,  might  not  be  a  suffi- 
ciently powerful  battery  to  so  act  upon  the  in- 
visible wires,  which  connect  brain  with  brain  and 
heart  with  heart,  as  to  make  speech  and  solicitation 
unnecessary.  But  the  crowd  kept  up  its  auction- 
eer-like howling,  and  I  was  nothing  but  a  little 
speck  in  the  universe, —  a  very  important  speck 
in  my  own  estimation, —  with  no  power  to  attract, 
orreach  the  great  heart  of  humanity,  except 
with  my  tongue,  and  that  tiny  member,  gen- 
erally willing  to  play  its  part  in  the  great  drama 
of  life,  never  felt  less  like  wagging  than  on  this 
long-to-be-remembered  occasion.  I  was  grow- 
ing metaphysical.  That  would  never  do.  The 
buxom  old  apple-woman,  quite  as  deep  in  the 


UP  BROADWAY.  79 

bustle  of  trade  as  her  more  reckless  brother 
down  the  street,  looked  at  me  wonderingly.  I 
walked  on  a  few  steps,  and  presently  a  cheery 
voice  said: 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Kirk ;  I  am  blessed  if 
I  wasn't  thinking  of  you  just  a  moment  ago!" 
and  a  kind  hand  grasped  mine.  One  of  the  in- 
dividuals I  was  looking  for,  you  see.  "  All  well 
at  home,  I  hope,"  he  continued.  "Little  folks 
smart  ?  You  look  sad  —  no  trouble,  I  trust  ? " 

"  We  are  all  in  usual  health,"  I  replied,  "  but 
I  came  over  this  morning  on  purpose  to  see  you. 
Can  you  spare  me  five  minutes  at  the  office  ? " 

"Yes,  my  dear  child,  thirty  of  them,  if  you 
will  excuse  me  while  I  deposit  this  troublesome 
stock.  Dame  Erie  has  been  on  a  regular  bender 
this  last  week;  old  enough  to  know  better,  you 
understand,  but  she  keeps  me  stepping  round 
pretty  lively ;  walk  right  down  to  the  office,  and 
Til  be  with  you  in  a  jiffy." 

"  I  hope  Erie  has  treated  you  very  well,"  I 
remarked  as,  a  few  moments  after,  he  seated 
himself  by  my  side. 

"What  poor  unfortunate  is  in  a  tight  place 


80  UP  BROADWAY. 

now?"  he  inquired,  good-naturedly.  "I  know 
somebody  is  in  need,  by  the  looks  of  your  face. 
Yes,  Erie,  the  jilt,  thanks  to  a  bright  eye  to  the 
windward,  has  treated  me  uncommonly  well ;  and 
now,  tell  me  who's  in  trouble,  and  all  about  it. 
It  is  rather  curious  that  I  should  have  been 
thinking  about  you  this  morning." 

I  had  only  now  to  relate  that  part  of  my  story 
I  had  thought  best  to  impart.  The  responsive 
chord  was  struck  without  a  word,  and  I  was  soon 
in  the  midst  of  my  narrative. 

"Bless  your  heart,  yes!  made  comfortable f  — 
of  course  she  shall  be !  By  George !  that  is  won- 
derful !  I  suppose  there  are  hosts  of  just  such 
cases  in  this  modern  Sodom,"  he  interrupted,  as  I 
stopped  to  take  breath.  "  Glad  you  came  to  me. 
Let's  see :  how  much  money  ought  to  do  this  ? 
Have  you  made  any  calculation?  Two  hundred 
dollars,  eh  ?  That  ought  to  fix  things  up  a  little, 
I  should  think.  Good  gracious,  the  poor  child  is 
actually  weeping ! "  as  I  turned  my  head  to  hide 
the  tears  of  thankfulness. 

Two  hundred  dollars !  To  have  raised  half 
that  sum  I  expected  to  have  been  compelled  to 


UP  BROADWAY.  81 

make  at  least'  four  "soliciting"  visits,  and  what 
wonder  I  was  glad  when  begging  was  so  distaste- 
ful !  My  friend  did  not  begin  to  comprehend  the 
depth  of  my  gratitude.  How  could  he  ?  Con- 
ventionalisms, as  wicked  as  they  are  stupid,  came 
in  to  prevent  any  real  heartfelt  demonstrations ; 
but  he  will  know  all  about  it  some  day,  not 
perhaps  until  we  have  both  stepped  over  to  the 
great  other  side;  but  I'll  show  him  then,  see 
if  I  don't.  As  I  passed  out  he  recalled  me 
with, — 

"Look  here ;  I  bought  my  sister,  a  year  ago,  a 
real  nice  Wheeler  and  Wilson  sewing-machine. 
Her  health  is  very  delicate,  and  she  is  not  able  to 
use  it  at  all.  If  it  would  be  of  any  service  to  her, 
she  can  have  it  and  welcome;  and  also  all  the 
work  of  our  family,  that  is,  if  she  proves  herself 
a  good  and  reliable  seamstress,  which  I  have  no 
doubt  she  will." 

God  hadn't  opened  that  door  wide.  It  was 
not  even  ajar;  no  indeed!  The  portals  were 
thrown  open  and  relief  had  come  rolling  in, 
in  a  manner  totally  unexpected.  It  is  perhaps 
unnecessary  to  state  that  I  accepted  the  ma- 


82  HP  BROADWAY. 

chine,  and  with  it  more  faith  in  God,  and 
more  in  humanity.  I  went  my  way  rejoicing. 
Yes,  I  mean  it, — more  faith  in  God;  although  I 
am  aware  that  expression  is  not  exactly  ortho- 
dox. A  Christian's  faith  should  be  just  as 
bright  through  the  clouds  and  pelting  rain, 
through  the  thunder-storms  of  trouble,  through 
death  and  disaster,  as  when  the  sunshine  of 
happiness  irradiates  arid  makes  glad  the  soul; 
at  least,  I  suppose  it  should  be,  but  I  cannot 
make  it  seem  exactly  natural.  Wouldn't  it  be 
nice  to  take  a  peep  behind  the  great  black  cur- 
tain, and  see  what  it  all  means  ? 

I  found  my  friend  anxiously  awaiting  my 
arrival,  her  dark  eyes  full  of  that  new  light  of- 
hope  and  determination  which  had  dawned  for 
the  first  time  the  day  before.  I  went  about  my 
little  comforts  and  improvements  with  as  light  a 
heart  as  if  this  tumble-down  old  shanty  had 
been  an  establishment  on  Fifth  avenue,  and  I 
its  proprietor.  It  was  the  home  of  virtue  and 
peace,  and  I  hoped  to  make  it  one  of  content- 
ment. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

i 

HA  YE  been  asked  several  times  by  those 
who  have  become  interested  in  this  story, 
how  I  dared  trust  the  woman  I  was 
striving  to  assist,  and  if  I  felt  no  misgivings  as  to 
her  ability  to  keep  the  promise  she  had  made  me. 
To  all  I  would  say  that  no  doubt  of  her  desire  to 
lead  a  different  life  ever  entered  my  head  from 
the  first  moment  I  laid  my  eyes  on  her  face,  and 
it  would  have  made  no  difference  in  my  endeavors 
had  I  been  suspicious  of  failure.  You  who  are 
sceptical  in  regard  to  the  reformation  of  such, 
select  a  case  and  do  your  best  with  it,  and  if  you 
do  not  discover  a  host  of  things  to  love  and  res- 
pect in  the  object  of  your  solicitude,  your 
experience  will  be  vastly  different  from  mine, 

I  had  left  my  friend  comfortable,  and  my  next 
move  was  to  purchase  some  plain,  tasteful  dresses 

for  both  mother  and  child,  and  prepare  the  latter 

(83) 


84  UP  BROADWAY. 

for  a  good  public  school,  which  she  was  extremely 
anxious  to  attend.  "What  with  my  own  work  and 
the  delay  of  shopping,  it  was  some  three  or  four 
days  before  I  found  it  convenient  to  call  again. 
Early  one  morning  I  was  surprised  by  a  visit 
from  my  little  protege. 

"  Why,  Mary,"  said  I,  as  the  child  ran  into  my 
room,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you ;  but  what  is  the 
matter  ? " 

The  darling's  eyes  were  red  and  swollen  from 
weeping,  and  her  whole  manner  gave  evidence  of 
great  mental  excitement. 

"  Oh,"  she  answered,  "  mother  is  very  sick ;  I 
don't  know  what  ails  her !  She  was  all  right  till 
yesterday.  See  what  she  made  for  me  out  of 
one  of  the  dresses  you  brought ;  don't  it  look 
nice  ? "  and  the  little  one  displayed  the  neatly- 
fitting  calico  with  a  pride  which  did  my  heart 
good  to  witness.  "  It  is  a  long  time  since  mother 
sewed  a  stitch  for  me.  I  hope  these  wont  be 
the  last  now,"  and  the  poor  over-wrought  child 
broke  completely  down. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  dear,  and  then  Lwill  get 
ready  and  go  home  with  you."  After  a  little  I 


UP  BROADWAY.  85 

listened  to  tlie  following,  which  I  will  give  in  her 
own  words  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember : 

"  I  thought  mother  was  going  to  be  happy  now, 
we  had  got  things  so  nice;  but  she  has  looked 
sadder  than  ever,  and  I  couldn't  get  her  to  talk 
much ;  but  she  kept  to  work  until  last  night,  and 
then,  all  of  a  sudden,  fell  over  in  her  chair.  Oh 
dear  !  I  thought  she  was  dying  !  I  tried  to  lift 
her  up,  but  she  was  too  heavy.  I  bathed  her 
^ace  with  cold  water,  and  after  a  little  she  roused 
up  and  said  :  i  Oh,  Mary  !  Mary  !  you  poor  little 
outcast !  if  I  die,  promise  me  that  you  will  find 
your  father.'  Oh,  my  dear  Mrs.  Kirk!"  .and 
now  the  child's  arms  were  around  my  neck.  "  I 
hope  that  God  will  forgive  me,  for  I  was  very 
wicked  to  my  poor  sick  mother,  but,  when  she 
said  that — 'find  my  father'  —  I  thought  I  should 
have  died  for  very  madness.  You  see  I  always 
knew  that  I  must  have  had  a  father,  and  I  also 
knew  that  he  wasn't  dead ;  and  from  little  things 
here  and  there,  I  got  it  into  my  head  that  he  left 
my  mother  because  he  got  tired  of  her,  or  some- 
thing else ;  and  then  to  have  her  ask  me  to  find 
him  if  she  died  was  a  little  too  much  for  this 
child,  and  I  told  her  that  I'd  be  torn  into  inch 


86  UP  BROADWAY. 

pieces  first.  Find  a  man  who  would  leave  his 
wife  and  child  to  starve !  "  and  the  dark  eyes 
flashed  forth  a  light  which  transformed  the  little 
one  into  an  earnest,  impassioned,  determined 
woman. 

"But,  child,"  said  I,  "you  surely  didn't  say 
those  bitter  things  to  your  mother,  and  she  so 
sick,  did  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  did,"  she  replied,  dashing  away  the 
tears,  —  "  yes,  I  did,  and  that's  what  I  am  sorry 
for ;  because  I  expect  she  didn't  half  know  what 
she  was  talking  about,  and  ever  since  she  has 
kept  straight  at  it.  Her  hands  are  hot  as  fire, 
and  so  is  her  head.  I  got  old  Mother  Thurston 
to  sit  with  her  while  I  came  over  for  you." 

"Mary,"  said  I,  taking  the  child's  trembling 
fingers  in  mine,  "  have  you  the  least  idea  who 
your  father  is  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,"  she  replied ;  "  and  more  than 
that,  I  don't  want  to  have.  It  seems  to  me, 
ma'am,  and  I  can't  get  it  out  of  my  head,  that  he 
is  the  cause  of  all  the  dreadful  trouble  we  have 
had,  and  I  hate  him !  TVont  you  please  to  tell 
me  what  you  think  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  know  more,  perhaps,  about  the  circumstances 


UP  BROADWAY.  87 

than  you  do,  my  dear,"  I  replied,  striving  to 
suppress  all  emotion,  and  impressed  with  the 
necessity  of  imparting  some  idea  of  the  past  to 
the  little  one.  Ever  since  I  had  listened  to  the 
woman's  sad  story,  a  feeling  of  pity  had  stolen 
into  my  heart  for  the  man  who  had  wrought  this 
great  misery.  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  it,  nor, 
to  save  my  life,  bring  myself  to  feel  that  he  was 
as  recklessly  guilty  as  the  facts  seemed  to  warrant. 
That  he  loved  the  mother  of  this  little  one,  I 
knew.  From  her  own  description  I  realized  that 
the  affection  was  not  merely  an  animal  or  sensual 
one.  It  appeared  to  me  that,  suffering  from  the 
effect  of  an  unhappy  marriage,  with  an  aching 
heart  and  a  hungry  soul,  he  had  met  this  beauti- 
ful girl,  fallen  desperately  in  love,  and  believed 
that,  with  his  wondrous  wealth  and  the  great 
love  she  felt  for  him,  he  could  keep  the  matter 
of  his  first  matrimonial  experience  secret.  I  re- 
alized, too,  that  it  was  a  dastardly  act  for  any  one 
to  be  guilty  of,  but  I  pitied  him  nevertheless. 
So  I  said  to  the  little  one,  scarcely  conscious  of 
the  import  of  my  words :  "  My  dear,  never  let 
me  hear  you  say  again  that  you  hate  your  father. 
I  do  not  know  who  he  is,  or  where  he  is,  but  I 


88  UP  BROADWAY. 

know  lie  does  not  hate  you,  and  I  believe  that 
had  he  known  where  to  have  found  you  all  these 
years,  you  would  not  have  been  left  to  suffer  so ; 
and  more  than  all,  child,  I  am  strongly  led  to 
believe  that  you  will  be  very  proud  of  him  one 
of  these  days." 

The  child  hung  her  head  for  a  moment,  and 
then  replied,  while  her  eyes  twinkled  with  pleas- 
ure :  "  What  a  funny  lady  you  are.  I  have  got 
something  in  my  pocket  I  want  to  show  you. 
I  wasn't  going  to,  because  I  thought  maybe  it 
would  be  doing  mother  a  wrong.  I  can't  read  or 
write  much,  but  mother  cries  over  this  every 
night ;  I've  caught  her  at  it  lots  of  times." 

I  took  the  note,  soiled  with  frequent  usage, 
and  read,  while  my  heart  almost  stopped  beating. 
It  was  simply  an  affectionate  excuse  for  not 
returning  at  the  promised  time.  It  was  signed 
"  Your  own  Charles,"  and  under  this  was  written 
in  the  woman's  own  chirography  "Alia  - 
a  name  with  which  I  was  almost  as  familiar 
as  with  my  own.  A  name  representing  money, 
philanthropy,  position,  and  all  sorts  of  good 
things.  A  man  of  whom  I  had  never  heard 
the  first  whisper  of.  evil. 


CHAPTEE 


HAT'S  the  matter,  please?"  inquired 
Mary,  noticing  my  surprise.  "Is  that 
anybody  you  know  ?  Do  tell  rne  quick  !  " 
she  continued,  imploringly.  "  You  don't  half  feel 
how  mother's  strange  actions  hurt  me.  There 
are  two  or  three  things  she  has  cried  over  ever 
since  I  can  remember,  and  now  they  are  driving 
her  mad.  You  understand  what  all  this  means  ; 
do  tell  me.  I  am  not  a  little  girl  like  other  little 
girls  you  are  acquainted  with.  I  never  was  a 
child;  that  is,  I  never  cared  to  play  and  romp  like 
other  children.  I  never  had  but  one  thought, 
and  that  was,  i  What  is  the  matter  with  mother  \  ' 
and  if  you  don't  tell  me,  I  shall  die  /  indeed  I 
shall!" 

The  little  one's  voice  trembled  with  emotion, 
and  tears  filled  her  brilliant  eyes.  I  dared  not 
impart  to  her  my  suspicions,  or  rather  my  knowl- 

(89) 


90  UP  BROADWAY. 

edge;  and,  after  a  little  evasion,  I  managed  to 
quiet  the  child.  "  I  know  nothing,  Mary,  for  a 
certainty,"  I  answered.  "Your  mother  has  not 
given  me  her  confidence,  and  I  am  simply  doing 
a  good  deal  of  guessing,  that  is  all.  You  must 
have  patience  and  wait.  It  seems  to  me  the 
clouds  are  breaking,  and,  as  I  have  told  you 
before,  child  though  you  are,  the  severest  of  your 
trials  have  been  passed." 

"  But  if  mother  should  die,  what  could  there 
be  in  life  for  me  ? "  she  sobbed.  "  I  have  often 
prayed  that  we  both  might  walk  out  of  this  cruel 
world  together ;  but  now  that  things  seem  to  look 
as  if  we  could  live  a  little  bit  like  decent  folks, 
I  did  hope  there  would  be  no  more  trouble. 
I  should  think  whose  ever  business  it  is  to  punish 
me  would  be  about  tired  by  this  time,  for  I've 
had  nothing  but  kicks  and  cuffs  ever  since  I  was 
born  till  you  came  and  fixed  us  all  up,  and 
mother  stopped  going  out  nights  and  doing  the 
things  that  made  my  heart  ache,  and  I  began  to 
be  what  1  never  was  before,  happy ;  and  no  sooner 
had  I  commenced  to  enjoy  myself  than  something 
else  dreadful  turns  up.  Mother  is  crazy." 


UP  BROADWAY.  91 

It  was  no  use  to  quote  passages  of  Scripture  to 
this  precocious  child,  no  use  to  attempt  to  admin- 
ister comfort  in  any  ordinary  method.  She  could 
not  be  made  to  understand  discipline,  as  taught 
by  professed  Christians  of  the  present  day.  She 
was  guiltless  of  intentional  wrong:  why  should 
she  be  punished  ?  So,  with  the  little  one's  hand 
tightly  clasped  in  mine,  I  sought  once  more  the 
abode  of  my  friend.  To  say  that  I  was  startled 
at  the  change  a  few  days  had  accomplished  does 
not  half  express  the  state  of  my  feelings.  As  we 
entered,  she  turned  her  face  toward  the  door  and 
smiled.  A  single  spot  of  scarlet  burned  on  each 
che.ek,  making  the  remainder  of  the  face  still 
more  pallid  by  contrast.  Her  long,  abundant 
hair  had  been  released  from  its  coil  to  relieve 
the  heated  brain,  and  now  it  rippled  over  the 
pillow,  giving  a  weird,  almost  angelic,  appearance 
to  the  woman,  who  seemed,  as  I  examined  her 
condition  carefully,  to  be  hovering  on  the  con- 
fines of  the  Eternal  City. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come !"  she  said,  "  so 
glad !  I  dreamed  that  you  had  left  me  forever." 

"What  a  stupid  dream,  to  be  sure ! "  I  answered, 


92  UP  BROADWAY. 

assuming  an  indifference  I  was  far  from  feeling. 
"You  are  feverish,  Mary.  I  think  you  must 
have  taken  cold.  How  long  have  you  felt  so 
miserable?" 

"Oh,  all  along,"  she  murmured;  "but  then 
some  way  I  have  never  allowed  my  feelings  to 
get  the  mastery  of  me  until  now.  I  strove 
against  it  for  your  sake,  indeed  I  did;  but  it 
would  come.  I  thought  to  get  to  work,  and 
hoped  to  do  well,  so  that  you  could  see  how 
thankful  I  was  for  all  your  kindness,  but  it  was 
no  use ;  I  shall  never  again  be  fit  for  anything 
but  the  grave ;  and  for  all  our  sakes,  I  wish  death 
would  come  quickly." 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  I,  gravely,  "  you  are 
certainly  the  most  ungrateful  member  of  my 
family.  You  should  not  have  dared  to  get  ill. 
Have  you  any  new  trouble  ? "  and  I  took  the 
thin,  burning  hand  in  mine,  and  tried  to  soothe 
the  over- wrought  .nerves. 

"  It  is  my  brain,"  she  replied,  drawing  my 
hand  to  her  forehead.  "The  part  of  me  that 
thinks,  dear.  Some  way,  since  I  knew  that  we 
were  provided  for,  and  that  Mary  hadn't  to  suffer 


UP    BROADWAY.  93 

for  something  to  eat,  I  have  had  more  time  to 
think,  and  it  almost  kills  me.  The  past  is  dread- 
ful. How  much  better  it  would  have  been  for 
me  and  her,"  pointing  to  the  child,  who  sat  on 
the  bed,  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  "  if  I  had,  when 
so  sorely  oppressed,  folded  her  a  little  closer  to 
my  heart  and  jumped  overboard!  God  would 
have  forgiven  it,  I  am  sure ;  but  now  there  is 
nothing  for  me  here  or  hereafter.  A  few  weeks 
of  madness,  and  then  the  miserable  flicker  will 
be  quenched  forever." 

"  Desperate  means  for  desperate  cases,"  I  re- 
peated mentally,  realizing  that  something  must 
be  done,  and  that  speedily,  or  I  should  never  be 
able  to  rouse  her  from  the  condition  which,  after 
all,  was  an  extremely  natural  one,  the  only  won- 
der being  that  she  had  not  succumbed  before. 

"Of  whom  have  you  been  thinking?"  I  in- 
quired, softly,  still  retaining  the  hot  hand,  "  for 
the  last  few  hours  ? "  Again  that  wan  smile,  and 
she  whispered,  "  Oh !  of  him,  you  know  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  was  my  reply. 

"  How  can  I  help  it  ?  Sometimes  I  think,"  she 
continued,  "that  I  acted  too  hastily  in  leaving 


94  UP    BROADWAY. 

him  the  day  that  dreadful  woman  came  there. 
His  last  words  were  that  he  loved  me,  and  I  know 
I  loved  him,  and  oh !  my  Father !  I  love  him 
now.  I  wonder  if,  by  and  by,  after  God  is  sat- 
isfied of  my  sincere  repentance  for  all  I  have 
done  amiss,  he  will  let  me  join  hands  with  him 
and  be  his  friend  ?  Why,  I  would  be  willing  to 
wait  a  thousand  years." 

More  than  one  severe  struggle  for  calmness  I 
have  had  during  my  most  eventful  life,  but  this 
was  the  most  difficult  of  all.  An  indescribable 
something  urged  me  on,  and  yet,  as  I  looked  into 
her  sunken  eyes,  the  idea  which  had  such 
thorough  control  of  my  faculties  seemed  utterly 
impracticable.  Still,  I  could  not  be  quiet. 

"  Why  don't  you  talk  to  me  like  you  used  ? " 
she  queried,  peeping  into  my  face.  "You  are 
discouraged,  and  I  don't  wonder." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  said  I.  "  Why,  bless  your 
heart,  this  reaction  is  no  more  than  a  philosopher 
would  have  expected."  But  I  was  busy  with  my 
thoughts.  "  Mary,  you  think  you  have  guarded 
your  secret  admirably,  don't  you  ?  I  respect  the 
feeling  which  has  made  you  so  careful ;  but,  my 


UP  BROADWAY.  95 

dear,  Mr. is  not  unknown  to  me." 

Oh,  if  you  could  have  seen  her  1  I  had  hit  the 
right  nail  that  time. 

"How  came  you?  What  have  I  ever  done? 
Where  did  you  find  it  out?  That  name  never 
escaped  my  lips.  Oh!  my  God!  what  shall  I 
do?"  and  she  threw  herself  away  and  groaned 
aloud.  "  You  would  not  tell ! "  she  shrieked, — 
"  you  would  not  dare  to  tell ! " 

"  Never,  my  dear  child,  shall  the  name  escape 
my  lips,  if  you  do  not  desire  it.  But  let  me 
tell  you  one  thing.  He  is  a  man  of  whom  I 
never  heard  one  evil  word  spoken.  A  man  who 
has  the  respect  of  the  entire  community.  Kow, 
Mary,  something  must  be  done.  If  he  ever 
cared  for  you,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  he  did, 
he  cannot  have  quite  forgotten  you." 

"Hush  now!  hush!  stop  it!  not  a  word!" 
she  almost  screamed.  "Don't  you  ever  dare! 
He  took  me  as  his  mistress  when  he  already  had 
a  wife.  Was  there  any  honor  about  that  ?  !N"o, 
indeed!  A  man  of  whom  you  never  heard  an 
evil  word!  Does  society  ever  say  anything  of 
men  who  commit  such  terrible  sins  as  these? 


96  UP   BROADWAY. 

Oh  no !  they  are  always  '  honorable ' !  and  yet  I 
loved  him,  love  him  still ;  but  don't  you  dare, 
don't  you  dare,  I  say,  ever  utter  a  word  of  this ! " 
My  first  point  had  been  gained.  There  was 
something  new  to  be  thought  about,  and  I  had 
no  fear  of  insanity  just  then.  So,  after  a  few 
words  of  sympathy,  I  bade  her  "good-by." 
Promising  to  come  again  soon,  I  left  her  to  call 
on  the  man  who  had  wrought  this  accumulation 
of  woes. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

seemed  to  me,  as  I  left  the  bedside  of 
the  sufferer  and  walked  down  the  rickety 
old  stairway  into  the  street,  that  my  feet 
scarcely  touched  the  ground.  I  felt  like  one  up- 
borne, upheld  —  a  sort  of  spiritual  exhilaration  I 
had  never  before  experienced.  I  was  conscious 
of  a  mighty  presence,  a  wonderful  power  that 
made  me  strong  and  calm,  strangely  controlling 
my  actions.  I  do  not  pretend  to  account  for  this. 
Most  of  my  readers  have  probably  been  simi- 
larly acted  upon  in  some  portion  of  their  lives. 
What  would  I  not  give,  what  would  I  not  sacri- 
fice, to  push  aside  the  curtain,  and  observe  how 
that  was  accomplished!  "Nervously  suscepti- 
ble," says  one;  "large  clairvoyant  powers," 
says  another;  "a  spiritual  medium,"  exclaims 

still  another.    As  I  look  back  upon  the  singular 

(97) 


98  UP  BROADWAY. 

• 

developments  of  that  day  alone,  I  am  lost  in 
wonder  and  amazement;  and  confess  myself  just 
as  ignorant  of  the  modus  operandi  of  the  con- 
cealed wire-pulling  of  that  occasion,  as  the 
veriest  child  who  reads  these  pages.  So,  call  it 
what  you  please,  account  for  it,  each  one,  by 
his  or  her  pet  theory :  it  is  all  of  that  and  more 
beside  to  me ;  for  it  makes  me  certain  of  a 
glorious  by  and  by ;  of  loving  arms  all  ready  to 
hold  me  close;  of  a  Father,  lover,  and  friends; 
of  a  heaven  where  Mary  can  revel  in  the  purity 
of  her  first  love,  and  where  you  and  I  may  see 
the  crooked  tilings  of  this  life  made  straight. 
Just  consider  a  place  where  mistakes  are  recti- 
fied, angularities  rounded  off,  causes  explained, 
and  love  our  eternal  food.  Oh,  for  one  draught 
from  that  fountain ! 

As  I  walked  "Up  Broadway,"  determined  to 
get  at  the  depths  of  the  affair  that  had  so  long 
and  painfully  occupied  me,  I  seemed  to  meet  an 
entirely  different  set  of  people  from  those  who 
generally  promenade  this  metropolitan  thorough- 
fare. A  kind  light  shone  from  every  eye,  a  sort 
of  "God  bless  you"  trembled  upon  every  lip;  and 


UP  BROADWAY,  99 

as  I  stopped  a  moment  to  take  breath,  and  try- 
to  explain  these  singular  sensations,  a  cheery 
voice  sang  out, — 

"And  is  it  yerself,  my  dear  lady,  that  can  be 
telling  a  poor  feller,  who  has  lost  his  way,  the 
straight  road  to  Houston  street,  sure  ? " 

"  Houston  street  ?  oh,  yes,  sir ! "  I  replied,  en- 
deavoring to  bring  myself  down  to  the  practical 
place,  from  whence  issued  this  pleasant  voice. 
"Houston  street  is  two  blocks  above,"  and  I 
pointed  in  the  right  direction. 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am ;  thank  you,  ma'am,"  he 
replied,  touching  his  hat  respectfully.  "I'm 
much  obliged  to  ye,  sure;  but  is  it  out  o'  the 
clouds  ye  dropped?  for  upon  the  honor  of  an 
Irishman,  ye  have  no  look  like  the  other  folks 
round  here.  It  wouldn't  take  a  wizard  to  tell 
that  it  is  not  of  yerself  ye  are  thinking  to-day. 
God  bless  you,  ma'am,  whatever  ye  are  about." 

This  was  a  God-speed  I  had  not  reckoned  upon, 
and  it  served  a  double  purpose:  first,  in  bring- 
ing me  down  to  the  concert  pitch  and  a  more 
thorough  realization  of  the  peculiar  errand  I  had 
started  upon,  and  next,  it  assured  me  of  success. 


100  CT-P  BROAD  WA  Y. 

That  hearty,  "God  bless  you,  ma'am,"  rings  in 
my  ears  still,  and  yet  my  Celtic  friend  was  utter- 
ly unconscious  of  having  said  or  done  a  pleasant 
thing.  I  cannot  but  think  that  he  was  a  part 
of  that  day's  programme,  and  no  insignificant 
part  either.  By  the  time  I  arrived  at  my  desti- 
nation, I  was  conscious  that  my  errand  might 
be  construed,  by  the  man  I  had  determined  to 
have  an  audience  with,  into  a  piece  of  imperti- 
nence ;  but  that  did  not  deter  me.  I  was  a  little 
less  dreamy  and  poetical,  but  not  a  whit  less 
resolved  upon  accomplishing  my  purpose.  I 
reached  the  establishment,  entered,  and  looked 
carefully  around  to  see  if  the  object  of  my 
search  was  present.  Nowhere,  to  be  sure.  I 
don't  think  my  voice  trembled  a  particle  as  I 
handed  my  card  to  an  usher ;  but  the  letters 
which  made  up  "Eleanor  Kirk,"  so  plainly  em- 
bossed upon  the  enamelled  pasteboard,  seemed 
dancing  a  jig.  "Be  kind  enough  to  give  this 

to  Mr.  ,  and  tell  him  that  the  lady  awaits 

a  private  interview." 

The    man    gave  me   a  scrutinizing    look,   as 
much  as  to  say,  "  Some  woman  with  an  agency, 


UP  BROADWAY.  101 

or  worse  still,  on  a  begging  expedition.  You 

wont  see  Mr. to-day,"  and  walked  rapidly 

away.  He  returned  in  a  moment  and  said, — 

"  Mr.  wishes  to  know  the  nature  of  your 

business;  unless  it  is  exceedingly  important,  he 
cannot  see  you,  as  he  is  especially  engaged  at 
this  hour." 

I  took  another  card,  wrote  on  the  back:  "A 
matter  of  life  and  death ;  a  leaf  from  the  past," 
inclosed  it  in  an  envelope,  and  waited.  I  was 
not  at  all  surprised  when  the  usher  returned 
and  politely  bade  me  follow  him.  Something 
kept  saying  to  my  heart,  which  throbbed  in  my 
bosom  like  a  young  earthquake  (I  suppose  it 
was  my  own  spiritualized  self)  "  Keep  down ; 
God  is  with  you;  hosts  of  angels  are  helping 
you  in  this.  Be  steadfast!"  and  in  a  moment 
I  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  man  who  had 
wrought  the  terrible  desolation  I  had  just  left. 
My  first  thought,  as  I  scanned  this  really  noble 
countenance  (for  I  had  never  had  an  opportunity 
of  observing  him  so  closely  before)  was,  "Mary, 
I  do  not  wonder  that  your  young  heart  went 
out  towards  this  man;  do  not  wonder  that  you 


102  WP  BROAD  WA  Y. 

forsook  father  and  mother,  and  for  his  dear  sake 
lived  among  strangers;  do  not  wonder  at  your 
wild  idolatry,"  and  then,  with  these  thoughts 
chasing  each  other  in  quick  succession  through 
my  brain,  I  stood  looking  him  straight  in  the 
eye,  without  a  single  word. 

"Mrs.  or  Miss  Kirk?"  he  observed,  politely 
extending  his  hand,  and  drawing  a  chair  for  me 
to  be  seated.  Still,  I  stood  like  one  suddenly 
struck  dumb.  Oh!  if  I  could  only  write  out 
the  sermon  that  came  to  me  on  that  occasion, 
I  should  be  doing  a  good  for  humanity ;  but  the 
ideas  will  not  shape  themselves  into  language, 
and  I  suppose  I  shall  be  compelled  to  carry  it 
round  in  my  soul  until — well,  who  knows  when? 

But  it  is  there,  and  must  sometime  have  an 
airing.  I  placed  my  hand  in  his,  and  in  a 
twinkling,  realized  that  he  comprehended  my 
errand.  The  soul-telegraph  had  done  its  mighty 
work;  and,  without  more  ado  (laugh  if  you 
please,  call  it  "woman  fashion,"  if  you  have  a 
mind),  I  burst  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  sob- 
bing, in  which  —  doubt  all  who  may,  but  the  fact 
is  as  true  as  that  I  am  now  trying  to  describe  that 


UP  BROADWAY.  103 

gcene  —  my  companion  joined,  and  this  without 
a  word  having  been  spoken.  Heaven  and  earth 
are  full  of  mysteries,  but  this  episode  of  my  life 
is  the  most  mysterious  of  all. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

TTAVK  always  noticed  when  men  and 
women  are  similarly  affected  by  sudden 
grief,  in  case  of  death,  or  other  be- 
reavements, that  women  are  the  first  to  recover 
composure.  Now,  as  far  as  1  have  observed — 
and  I  have  tried  to  discriminate  clearly  and  con- 
scientiously— the  good  and  bad  are  about  equally 
distributed,  and  the  counterpart  of  every  wicked 
man  may  be  found  in  the  opposite  sex. 

This,  I  know,  will  be  questioned  by  many  radi- 
cal reformers,  who  are  somehow  determined  to 
see  no  virtue  or  decency  among  the  fathers  of  the 
nation.  The  memory  of  my  father — God  bless 
him  ! — is  just  as  dear  to  me  as  that  of  my  mother, 
and  in  sympathy  and  tenderness  I  believe  he  was 
really  her  equal.  Through  the  numberless  ills 
of  childhood,  his  loving  arms  encompassed  me. 
Life  was  dreary,  indeed,  after  he  was  called 

away. 

(104) 


UP  BROADWAY.  105 

It  has  so  happened  that  in  my  strange  and 
wearisome  pilgrimage,  my  soul  has  been  cheered 
by  kind-hearted,  pure-minded,  honor-loving  mem- 
bers of  the  proscribed  sex ;  and  I  never  hear  them 
denounced,  as  I  have  lately  had  occasion  to,  by 
women  who,  if  their  own  statements  are  to  be 
credited,  must  have  possessed  demons  for  fathers, 
brothers,  and  husbands,  without  feeling  that  the 
denouncers  are  not  only  shockingly  ignorant  in 
regard  to  natural  laws,  but  also  deficient  in  good, 
sterling  common  sense.  Why  a  father  should  be 
of  less  consequence  to  a  child  than  that  child's 
mother,  or  his  good  name  less  to  be  considered,  is 
something  I  cannot  yet  understand.  But  what  I 
started  to  say  was  this :  that  the  reason  women 
generally  recover  themselves  more  quickly  is,  that 
care-taking  belongs  especially  to  them.  The  bear- 
ing and  rearing  of  children  tends  to  develop  this 
quality,  and  therefore,  the  consideration  of  others, 
if  not  the  first  thought,  generally  follows  closely 
in  its  wake.  Now  I  had  not  the  remotest  inten- 
tion of  reading  a  homily  upon  the  virtues  of  the 
race,  or  of  attempting  to  explain  the  difference 
between  the  natures  and  dispositions  of  the  sexes ; 


106  UP  BROAD  WA T. 

but  it  seems  to  me  that  women  should  be  exceed- 
ingly careful  how  they  attempt  to  underrate  the 
masculine  element ;  and  it  appears  to  me  also, 
that  women  are  quite  as  much  to  blame  for  the 
laxity  of  morals  among  men  as  men  themselves. 
Did  women  but  turn  their  backs  upon  known 
roues  and  libertines — did  they  but  set  the  same 
value  upon  virtue  and  nobility  of  character  that 
they  do  upon  wealth  and  social  position,  the  attain- 
ment of  their  God-given  rights  would  then  be 
comparatively  easy. 

There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  so  unnerves  me 
as  to  see  a  strong  man  in  tears.  I  had  dried  my 
own  eyes,  and  with  my  hand  still  in  that  of  the 
stranger,  waiting  for  him  to  recover  composure, 
these  thoughts  chased  themselves  swiftly  through 
my  brain.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  one  may 
think  in  an  instant  of  time.  Social  requirements, 
conventionalities,  privileges,  each  and  all  took  on 
distinct  and  aggravated  forms ;  and  without  the 
least  supernatural  prescience,  I  was  enabled  per- 
fectly to  understand  the  route  which  the  individ- 
ual before  me  had  travelled  to  reach  this  port  of 
misery  and  humiliation. 


UP  BROADWAY.  107 

"  Pity  him  ? "  Yes,  with  my  whole  soul ;  just 
as  much,  and  just  as  unreservedly  as  though  the 
sufferer  had  been  one  of  my  own  sex.  As  I  stood 
(I  must  confess  it)  a  little  out  of  patience  with 
myself  for  allowing  my  heart  to  go  out  thus  spon- 
taneously to  a  man  who  had  been  the  cause  of  the 
downfall  and  degradation  of  one  of  my  sisters, 
this  little  sentence  was  wafted  into  my  soul  — 
"All  one  in  Christ  Jesus ;  "  and  that  settled  it. 

After  that  my  hand  was  passive  until  he  was 
ready  to  relinquish  it. 

"  Come  now,"  said  I,  "  let's  be  seated,  and  talk 
this  matter  over  immediately,"  and  I  straightened 
myself  up,  wiped  my  eyes  for  the  fortieth  time, 
and  endeavored  to  assume  a  practical  ^  manner, 
which  I  imagined  must  be  adopted  with  the  grief- 
stricken  man,  but  which  I  was  very  far  from  feel- 
ing. Not  that  I  felt  in  the  least  like  shirking  the 
responsibility  'thus  voluntarily  assumed  —  that 
wasn't  it ;  but  I  did  feel  strangely  like  managing 
the  case  my  own  way,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that 
wouldn't  do.  I  have  learned  better  since  ;  have 
found  that  an  impulse  is  oftentimes  a  genuine 
inspiration;  and  that  the  man  or  woman  who 


108  UP  BROAD  WA  K 

pushes  impulse  one  side,  because  Whately  or 
some  other  man  condemns  impulse  as  contrary  to 
true  logical  deduction — that  person  crowds  out 
the  divinest  part  of  his  nature. 

"  I  cannot  be  mistaken,"  he  said,  with  a  desper- 
ate effort  to  be  calm,  "  in  regard  to  your  errand- 
Oh !  if  you  only  knew  what  a  load  of  wretched- 
ness I  have  carried  round  with  me  all  these  years 
—  if  you  only  knew  "  —  and  here  the  poor  fellow 
broke  down  again. 

"  Good  God ! "  he  moaned,  now  rising  and 
pacing  the  room  distractedly.  "  "What  a  life !  and 
what  a  wretch !  Tell  me,  and  tell  me  quickty — 
tell  me  this  instant" — now  seizing  both  my 
hands  and  drawing  me  to  the  centre  of  the  room. 
"  Where  is  she  ?  Is  she  alive  1  Don't,  I  implore 
you — don't  tell  me  I  may  never  look  upon  her 
face  again !  If  you  have  come  with  her  dying 
message  —  her  precious  last  words  —  leave  me 
without  uttering  them.  As  Heaven  is  my  judge, 
I  could  not  bear  it !  Talk  about  the  tortures  of 
the  damned,"  he  continued,  more  to  himself  than 
to  me.  "  Have  I  not  endured  them  ?  and  all  be- 
cause of  love — God-given  love,  as  pure  as  angels 


UP  BROAD  WA  T.  109 

may  feel !  It  was  love,  so  help  me  Heaven,  it 
was  love  that  brought  all  this  desolation  upon  us ; 
and  now  she  is  dead — dead — and  you  have  come 
to  tell  me  so!  For  pity's  sake,  why  don't  you 
speak?" 

"  I  shall  have  two  lunatics  on  my  hands  pretty 
soon,  if  you  do  not  control  yourself,  my  dear  sir," 
I  replied,  a  strange  calm  suddenly  flooding  my 
soul. 

"  Two  lunatics  ?"  he  repeated,  catching  at  the 
words  with  wonderful  rapidity,  and  drawing  a 
chair  close  to  mine. 

"  You  are  smiling,  Mrs.  Kirk !  Why,  your 
face  looks  like  the  face  of  heaven  after  a  thunder 
shower!  You  couldn't  smile  if  she  was  dead. 
You  couldn't  smile  if  you  knew  that  such  news 
would  cause  me  to  blow  my  brains  out !  Two 
lunatics  ?  Mary  is  not  in  a  mad-house  !  That 
can't  be !  But  that  would  be  better  than  have 
her  dead,  because  I  could  bring  her  to  her  reason  ! 
Ay,  my  love  could  do  that !  She  is  alive.  Yes, 
I  know  she  is,  by 'your  face !  Tell  me  where  I 
may  find  her,"  and  the  eager  eyes  were  fixed 


HO  HP  BROADWAY. 

upon  mine  with  a  magnetism  which  was  irresis- 
tible. 

"  Mary  is  alive,"  I  replied,  and  then  waited  a 
moment. 

"  Bless  God !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  Oh  !  how  un- 
tiringly I  have  searched  for  her,  always  to  be 
disappointed." 

"  Mary  is  alive,"  I  continued,  "  and  in  the  pos- 
session of  her  senses,  bat  very  ill." 

"  Tell  me,  Mrs.  Kirk,  that  she  is  not  danger- 
ously ill ;  and  for  God's  sake  let  me  go  to  her  at 
once."  And  the  man  rushed  frantically  for  his 
hat. 

"  But  you  are  in  no  condition  to  go  into 
the  street,"  I  continued.  "  Mary  is  ill,  but  I 
think,  if  you  will  listen  to  me  for  a  few  moments, 
I  can  arrange  matters  so  that  you  may  be  able  to 
do  her  a  great  deal  of  good ;  I  do  not  consider 
her  dangerously  ill,  and  I  know  that  joy  seldom 
kills ;  so  please  be  quiet  for  a  little." 

"  God  bless  you  for  ever  and  ever,"  he  cried. 
"  I  am  a  happy  man  already.' 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

ilHAT  a  charm  there  is  in  silence !  What 
a  charm  in  sympathetic  communion! 
"What  untold,  indescribable  happiness  in 
feeling  that  one  has  accomplished  a  little  good, 
and  that  good  appreciated.  For  weeks  I  had 
been  quietly  and  persistently  at  work,  endeav- 
ring  to  benefit  the  real,  time  wife  of  the  man  I 
was  then  sitting  by  the  side  of,  whose  fine 
eyes  seemed  to  look  into  my  soul  and  seek 
the  depths  of  the  motives  which  had  actuated 
me  in  this  case. 

Please  don't,  at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings, 
confound  terms;  because  that  would  scarcely 
be  fair.  I  say  "  true  wife "  for  two  reasons : 
the  first  because  of  that  delightful  and  glorious 
blending  of  soul,  that  perfect  adaptability  of 
mental  and  physical  which  goes  to  make  a 
genuine  and  God-instituted  marriage  ;  and  the 

(ill) 


112  UP  BROADWAY. 

second,  because,  at  the  time,  she  honestly  con- 
sidered herself  such.  My  organ  of  veneration 
is  not  perhaps  as  large  as  it  would  be  had  I 
moulded  the  bump  to  suit  my  own  ideas  of  a 
healthy  and  well-formed  phrenological  develop- 
ment; but  there  is  one  thing  which  my  head 
and  heart  instinctively  bow  to,  and  that  is  the 
power  of  love.  That  the  man  beside  me  had 
been  guilty  of  a  terrible  wrong,  there  was  no 
way  of  dodging,  and  yet  I  found  myself  very 
busy  making  excuses  for  him.  He  had  sinned, 
and  sinned  for  love's  sake,  and  love  and  I  were 
on  the  best  of  terms;  and  so  I  contrasted  him 
with  wretches  I  had  seen  and  heard  of,  who 
without  an  atom  of  affection  for  those  they 
had  selected  for  their  lustful  designs,  wooed, 
won,  and  cast  aside.  I  suddenly  grew  metaphys- 
ical, and  considered  the  philosophy  of  love — 
love  in  its  elemental  and  diviner  sense  —  and 
had  almost  arrived  at  the  sphere  where  no 
other  kind  is  admissible,  where  the  boodage 
of  clay  is  forgotten,  or  if  necessarily  remembered, 
with  a  joy  next  akin  to  ecstacy,  that  the  disci- 


HP  BROAD  WA  Y.  113 

pline  has  past — when  my  companion  remarked 
in  a  low  tone, — 

"My  dear  madam,  have  you  quite  made  up 
your  mind  in  regard  to  my   case?    Your  eyes 
have  pierced  my  very  soul.     It  really  seeems  to 
me  that  there  is  not  a  thought  there  but  you 
have  seen  and  commented  upon.     I  was  think- 
ing," he  continued,  still  in  the  low,  mellifluous 
tones,   which   appeared   an   index  to   the  man's 
sweetness    and    nobility    of    disposition,    "  that 
you  must,  of  a  necessity,   consider   me  just  the 
scamp   I  have   proved  myself    to   be,  and  yet 
your    expression    is    merciful   in    the    extreme. 
Tell  me,  can   you  understand   a  love   so    deep 
so  high,  so  boundless,  as  to  preclude   all  possi- 
bility  of    any    other    feeling — a    sensation    so 
all-absorbing,  that  prudence,  propriety,  and   all 
human  laws   are,  if  not  set  at   defiance,   quite 
ignored  ?     Oh !  if  I  could  only  make  you  under- 
stand   that    this    was    the    feeling    I    had    for 
Mary!    Why,  my  dear  woman,  so  all-absorbing 
was  it  that  I  had    no  room  for   anything   else 
except,  well,  except" — and  here  the  low   tones 
grew  almost   indistinct,   and   then  ceased  alto- 


114:  UP  BROADWAY. 

getlier.  Just  at  that  very  moment  I  was  won- 
dering why  he  had  not  spoken  of  his  child. 
Could  it  be  he  had  forgotten  her  existence?  or 
was  he  purposely  waiting  for  me?  There  was 
the  soul-telegraph  again;  and  although  the  poor 
fellow's  manner  was  anxious  and  flurried,  the 
nerves  of  his  face  twitching  with  the  intensity 
of  the  effort  to  appear  calm,  I  could  not  refrain 
from  smiling  as  the  wonderful  power  of  soul 
communication  was  again  brought  home  to  me. 
There  we  sat,  looking  into  each  other's  faces, 
saying,  oh,  so  little,  for  our  hearts  were  too 
full  for  utterance,  and  yet  our  souls  were  just 
as  sociable  as  though  they  had  been  on  intimate 
terms  ever  since  their  creation.  To  be  a 
brilliant  conversationalist  is  certainly  the  ne 
plus  ultra  of  accomplishments,  but  to  be  able 
to  talk  sensibly  and  brilliantly  without  words 
of  a  verity,  transcends  that;  but  then  there  are 
so  few  whose  magnetism  will  allow  of  this 
perfect  and  glorious  understanding.  "Why 
do  you  smile,  Mrs.  Kirk?"  was  the  next  ques- 
tion, asked  with  quivering  lip. 

"Because,  dear  sir,  the  metaphysical  part  of 


UP  BROADWAY.  115 

this  strange  experience  pleases  me  to  such  a 
wonderful  extent  that  I  cannot  help  it.  We 
seem  to  be,  as  the  Spiritualists  say,  perfectly 
en  rapport;  and  now  you  would  have  me  tell 
you  of  your  little  girl — your  dear  little  girl, 
the  dearest  little  girl  of  my  acquaintance,  the 
one  who  first  took  me  to  your — your  wife." 

Oh!  how  I  wish  you  who  read  this,  you 
whose  sympathies  are  with  both  these  sufferers, 
could  have  looked  into  the  face  of  my  com- 
panion, as  I  uttered  those  words !  For  a  mo- 
ment he  did  not  speak,  then  leaning  forward 
inquired  almost  in  a  whisper,  "How  big  is 
she?" 

Comprehending  the  depth  of  feeling  which 
sought  expression  in  this  extremely  common- 
place inquiry,  I  replied,  "  About  so  big,"  raising 
my  arm  to  the  little  one's  height. 

"Is  she  healthy,  and  strong,  and  bright?," 
was  the  next  question,  in  the  same  eager  tones. 
A  vision  of  the  little  one  as  I  had  first  seen  her, 
curled  up  on  the  steps  of  the  Central  National, 
shivering  with  cold,  and  almost  starved,  was 
brought  distinctly  before  my  mind's  eye.  Just 


116  UP  BROAD  WA  T. 

to  think  of  it  —  the  daughter  of  one  of  our 
most  favored  metropolitan  merchants,  in  want 
of  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life !  The  child 
of  love  too,  and  perfect  confidence !  What  could 
it  all  mean?  Why  the  necessity  of  such  tor- 
ture to  one  of  God's  little  ones?  The  child, 
with  her  bright,  beautiful  eyes,  glaring  at  me 
from  their  framework  of  long,  tangled  hair, 
her  naive,  almost  brusque  manner,  wonderful 
logic  of  her  reasoning,  the  wit,  which  contact 
with  the  rough  edges  of  the  world  had  made 
as  keen  as  a  two-edged  sword,  all  came  back 
to  me,  and  I  replied,  with  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  my  subject,  "Yes  sir,  she  is  healthy,  and 
strong,  and  bright."  I  could  not  bring  my, 
self  to  tell  him  the  thoughts  which  were  thus 
uppermost  in  my  mind.  "Let  the  past  pass  in 
review  slowly,"  was  my  mental  determination, 
endeavoring  to  evade  the  eyes  which,  somehow, 
would  persist  in  their  steadfast  inspection. 

"Will  you  tell  me  how  my  little  daughl 
looks?  "  was  the  next  query.     "Like  her  moth< 
or  father  ?  " 

"Yery  much    like   both,"    I    made  an* 


HP  BROADWAY.  117 

"  She  has  her  mother's  features  with  your  ex- 
pression; and  really  it  is  extremely  hard  to  tell 
which  she  most  resembles." 

"  And  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  inform  me 
where  you  first  met  her ;  how  it  happened  that 
you  became  interested  in  my  darlings  ?  I  see 
that  you  are  fearful  of  wounding  my  feelings 
by  too  frank  an  explanation  of  circumstances." 

There  it  was  again  ;  more  telegraphing.  The 
science  of  clairvoyance  had  always  been  a 
pleasant  study  to  me,  although  I  had  never 
learned  to  discriminate  where  clairvoyance  began 
and  a  vivid  imagination  ended.  To  place  implicit 
reliance  upon  the  phenomena  I  had  seen  and 
heard  described  savored  of  over-credulity,  and 
that  I  might  not  be  too  easily  swayed  by  the 
mysterious  and  apparently  unexplainable,  I  had 
always  compelled  myself  to  stop  and  reason 
sternly  upon  every  subject  presented.  It  was 
not  wonderful  that  my  companion  should  imag- 
ine, or  rather  suspect  a  great  many  dreadful 
things  in  reference  to  the  woman  and  child  so 
long  separated  from  him ;  but  it  was  wonderful 


118  UP  BROADWAY. 

that  his  mind  should  thus  closely  follow  mine. 
So  far  there  had  been  no  mistake. 

"  My  little  one  was  cold  and  hungry  when  you 
found  her.  Aye  I  you  need  not  answer,  your  eyes 
brimming  with  tears  is  enough  for  me.  My  God ; 
my  baby  suffering  for  food  and  for  shelter !  and 
she  was  begging  !  I  see  that  too ! " 

Immediately  my  thoughts  flew  to  the  mother, 
and  the  condition  I  had  found  her  in,  when  taken 
home  by  the  child ;  the  recumbent  figure  in  the 
corner,  the  tawdry  finery  hanging  around,  and 
the  proof  I  received  from  the  woman's  own  lips 
of  the  business  she  was  engaged  in.  I  was  not  in 
the  least  surprised  that  he  should  follow  me  here  ; 
and  I  trembled  in  every  limb,  as  he  inquired,  still 
with  those  eager  eyes  looking  into  my  soul, — 

"  Where  was  Mary,  then  ? " 

"  At  home,  sir,"  I  replied,  determined  that  this 
time  I  would  insist  upon  that  soul  of  mine  keep- 
ing one  secret,  and  I  felt  that  this  was  not  the 
time  or  place  for  full  particulars. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

ilHERE  has  not  been  a  night  since  Mary 
left  me,  but  I  have  dreamed  of  her  and 
my  little  one.  So  tall " —  and  the  man 
stretched  out  his  hand  as  if  in  spirit  he  already 
covered  her  precious  head.  "Mary  told  you,  I 
suppose,  about  my  other  babe?  She  died  five 
years  ago,  and "  —  here  the  low  tones  ceased 
entirely,  and  again,  for  a  moment,  the  storm  of 
sorrow  swept  over  his  head — "since  then  I  have 
been  utterly  adrift." 

I  longed  to  ask  him  about  the  wife  which  the 
laws  of  the  land  declared  his,  but  somehow  I 
could  not  form  the  necessary  sentence.  "What 
right  had  I,  I  asked  myself,  to  again  bring  this 
man  and  woman  together,  supposing,  as  I  most 
certainly  did,  that  the  same  insurmountable 
barrier  existed  which  had  kept  them  apart  all 

these  years?  and  then,  supposing  this  first  wife 

(119) 


120  UP  BROADWAY. 

no  longer  lived,  what  reason  had  I  for  thinking 
that  he  would  so  far  set  aside  all  previous  exam- 
ples as  to  marry  a  fallen  woman,  even  though  he 
was  the  only  one  responsible  for  such  downfall  ? 
"  Have  you  not  gone  a  trifle  too  far  ? "  suggested 
that  "  still,  small  voice,"  which,  until  now,  I  had 
been  too  excited  to  notice.  "What  is  going 
to  come  out  of  this  ?  Has  Davy  Crockett's  "  Be 
sure  you're  right,  and  then  go  ahead,"  had  any 
influence  in  bringing  about  this  remarkable  and 
partial  finale,  or  have  you  been  swayed  by  im- 
pulse, and  impulse  alone?"  How  many  times 
have  I  heard  parents  say  to  children,  and  friend 
to  friend,  "  Decide  this  question  entirely  by  the 
head.  Do  not  allow  your  heart  to  have  the  least 
voice  in  the  matter."  This  then  seemed  like 
good  counsel ;  but  I  have  decided  since  that  the 
opinions  which  the  head  without  the  heart  arrives 
at,  or  the  heart  without  the  head,  are  diametrically 
opposed  to  the  logic  of  Christianity.  "  But  have 
you  not  been  overwhelmingly  governed  by 
heart  ?  Tell  me,  what  has  sound  common  sense, 
which  is  the  foundation  of  true  reasoning,  had  to 
do  with  the  visit  to  this  merchant  ? "  continued 


TIP  BROAD  WA  Y.  121 

the  voice  tantalizingly,  and  without  more  ado  I 
went  to  work  settling  the  torment.  In  a  second, 
the  head,  which  had  been  seemingly  ignored  in 
the  transaction,  came  in  with  a  squelcher. 
"  There  is  no  necessity  of  laying  down  premises 
to  prove  myself  correct.  Mary  and  the  man 
before  you  love  each  other  as  fondly  as  it  is 
possible  for  man  and  wroman  to  love.  Their 
affection  has  stood  the  test  of  time  and  separation ; 
and  now  it  is  none  of  your  business  whether 
or  no  the  legal  partner  still  lives,  or  whether 
protracted  inharmony  has  resulted  in  divorce. 
Your  duty  lies  with  the  fact  that  a  sister  is  dying 
for  the  love  it  is  in  your  power  to  give  her. 
"  Shall  she  ask  for  bread,  and  be  given  a  stone  ? " 
"  But  this  is  not  logic ! "  says  the  reader.  "  You 
confess  yourself  in  favor  of  a  monogamic  mar- 
riage, and  now  you  are  showing  that  love 
is  the  only  test  that  can  be  applied  to  such 
unions  !  Of  a  verity,  this  is  a  contradiction." 

Life  is  full  of  contradictions  and  seeming 
inconsistencies,  my  friend;  and  yet,  after  all, 
many  are  more  honest  in  the  expression  of  dif- 
ferent opinions,  at  different  times,  on  the  same 


122  UP  BROADWAY. 

subject,  than  we  give  them  credit  for.  That 
laws  for  the  government  of  humanity  are  abso- 
lutely necessary,  no  one  in  the  possession  of 
his  senses  can  dispute ;  but  it  is  not  possible 
for  one  man,  or  a  set  of  men,  to  frame  laws 
which  can  be  made  applicable  to  every  case. 
This  merchant  had  committed  a  sin  against  the 
law  when  he  allowed  the  flood-tide  of  love  to 
render  him  oblivious  to  that  law.  Still,  this  very- 
love,  the  divinest  part  of  his  nature,  was,  from 
the  very  reason  of  that  divinity,  a  million  times 
purer,  and  more  powerful,  than  any  statute  that 
the  brain  of  mortal  can  ever  frame.  Now,  this 
was  head-work ;  and  as  I  scanned  again  the 
noble  features  of  my  companion,  went  over  again 
the  cruel  years  which  had  deprived  him  of  all 
he  held  dear,  the  head  was  reverently  bowed  — 
bowed,  as  it  always  must  be,  to  the  omnipotence 
of  love.  I've  liked  my  head  better  ever  since 
the  bringing  in  of  that  verdict.  It  evinced  a 
harmony  of  feeling  and  action  which  argued 
well  for  future  quandaries. 

""What  a  wretch  I  have  been!"  he  resumed, 
after  a  moment's  quiet.     "If  you  would  only 


UP  BROADWAY.  123 

tell  me  how  I  can  ever  atone  for  the  wrong  done 
Mary  and  my  child,  I  shall  be  so  glad ;  but  there 
really  seems  no  way.  I  honestly  believed  when 
I  took  her  as  my  own  (God  bless  the  darling ! 
she  was  my  own,  is  my  own,  cherished  as  I 
think  few  men  can  cherish  a  woman),  that  I 
should  be  able  to  keep  the  manner  of  my  living 
a  profound  secret  until  —  well,  until  —  I  might 
as  well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  —  the  wife  the 
law  had  given  me  was  removed.  I  had  no  idea 
of  a  divorce ;  I  knew  that  a  separation  of  that 
description  could  never  part  us,  because,  demon- 
like,  she  would  pursue  me,  and  make  my  life, 
thus  parted,  more  wretched  than  ever.  Her  tem- 
per was  most  violent — entirely  uncontrollable. 
When  in  one  of  her  terrible  fits  of  passion,  which 
she  was  at  all  times  subject  to,  I  was  compelled 
to  be  ever  on  the  defensive,  and,  in  order  to  save 
my  own  life,  would  often  be  obliged  to  hold  her 
hands  until  the  frenzy  spent  itself,  and  she  would 
lie  back  weak  and  sometimes  penitent.  It  was  a 
species  of  insanity,  I  have  no  doubt,  but  none  the 
less  terrible  to  bear.  This  incessant  strain  upon 
the  nervous  system  brought  about  heart  disease, 


124:  VP  BROADWAY. 

which  her  physician  pronounced  incurable,  and 
likely  at  any  time  to  terminate  her  existence. 
Just  remember,  madam,  that  we  had  never  taken 
a  moment's  real  comfort  in  each  other's  society  ; 
that,  from  children,  our  fathers,  from  some  ridic- 
ulous family  compact,  had  determined  upon  our 
marriage ;  and  that  these  insane  ebullitions  of 
temper  had  been  carefully  concealed  from  us, — 
and  you  will  be  able  to  form  some  idea  of  my 
position  when  love,  the  real,  genuine  article, 
came  to  me.  I  could  not  refrain  from  possessing 
the  dear  child,  and,  to  do  this,  I  resorted  to 
subterfuge  and  occasional  falsehood.  What 
would  I  not  give  to  be  able  to  blot  out  the 
dreadful  past  ?  But  come,  is  it  not  time  to  go  ? 
Perhaps  my  course  will  be  plainer,  after  having 
once  more  confessed  my  sin  and  sorrow." 

"  Then,  you  have  no  children  living  save  little 
Mary?"  I  queried,  hoping  to  get  at  other  infor- 
mation. 

"]Nb,  my  friend,  she  is  all;  God  bless  the 
darling  !  My  wife  lived  just  six  months  after 
Mary  left  me,  and  "  — 

"  What !    your    wife    dead  ?      I  interrupted. 


UP  BROADWAY.  125 

Then  you  are  free  from  all  restraint,  free  from  all 
legal  ties,  free  to  do  just  as  your  heart .  dictates ! 
Thank  God  !"  I  almost  shrieked,  so  relieved  that 
I  could  not  help  the  expression. 

"  And  were  you  unacquainted  with  the  fact  ? " 
he  inquired,  while  a  look  of  perplexity  was 
plainly  visible. 

"  Entirely  so,"  I  answered,  with  a  long-drawn 
sigh  of  relief. 

"  But  how  did  you  dare  approach  me  if  un- 
aware of  my  liberty  ?  Were  you  ready  to  set  at 
defiance  the  conventionalities  of  society,  and 
allow  love  to  be  heard  in  this  case?  or  what 
were  your  ideas  ? " 

"I  think  I  had  no  very  definite  ideas  on  the 
subject,"  I  replied.  "I  knew  that  Mary  was 
perishing,  and  that  you  could  do  her  good ;  and 
I  came  to  you,  I  think,  because  I  couldn't  help 
it.  A  will  stronger  than  my  own  sent  me.  But 
I  am  really  overjoyed  to  know  that  hereafter 
everything  may  be  carried  on  without  dissimu- 
lation." I  could  not  but  be  struck  with  the 
gentleness,  as  well  as  the  genuine  fortitude  dis- 
played by  my  companion.  Tears  stood  in  his 


126  UP  BROADWAY. 

large  dark  eyes  —  tears  impossible  to  hide,  yet 
there  was  a  strange  calmness  in  his  manner, 
which  surprised  and  pleased  me.  I  felt  instinc- 
tively that  I  could  trust  him  in  the  interview 
which  was  so  soon  to  take  place  between  him 
and  the  woman  from  whom  he  had  been  so  long 
separated. 

"  Now,  if  you  think  best,  Mrs.  Kirk,  we  will 
go,"  he  continued  quietly.  "  I  do  not  think  my 
appearance  will  attract  observation ;  do  you  ? " 
and  there  was  in  the  pleasant  tone,  so  much  of 
friendliness,  and  real  trust  in  my  desire  and 
ability  to  be  of  assistance,  that  my  heart  grew 
warmer  and  my  sympathies  stronger. 

"  My  friend,"  said  I,  rising, —  thus  expressing 
my  willingness  to  depart, —  "do  not,  I  beg  of 
you,  appear  surprised  at  anything  you  may  see 
in  the  place  to  which  I  shall  take  you.  You 
have  probably  never  entered  a  house  so  misera- 
bly squalid  in  appearance  as  the  house  where 
your  Mary  is  compelled  to  reside ;  although  she 
is  now  provided  with  every  comfort. 

"  So  bad  as  that  ? "    he  queried.     "  Well !  let 


UP  BROAD  WA T.  127 

us  go,  or  I  fear  I  shall  not  have  strength  enough 
to  take  me  there." 

Just  then  a  rap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and 
without  waiting  for  an  invitation  to  enter,  the 
visitor  presented  himself.  Imagine  my  surprise 
when  the  minister,  of  whom  mention  has  been 
made  in  a  preceding  chapter,  walked  briskly  in, 
and  with  an  air  of  conscious  power,  made  known 
his  business.  I  had  seated  myself  with  my  back 
to  the  door,  but  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
hypocrite's  side  face,  without  recognition  on  his 
part,  and  then  waited,  with  considerable  curiosity, 
I  confess,  to  hear  the  object  of  his  visit.  Oh, 
how  my  blood  boiled  !  This  wretch,  whom  the 
world  supposed  was  entirely  engrossed  with  the 
saving  of  souls,  but  whose  special  business  it 
was  to  drag  down  to  the  lowest  depths  of  infamy 
the  weak  and  helpless  —  the  man  I  had  driven 
from  the  house  of  the  woman  whose  God-given 
husband  had  just  taken  the  scoundrel  by  the 
hand,  with  all  the  grace  and  suavity  of  a  refined 
gentleman,  as  well  as  a  sincere  disciple  of  Jesus 
—  made  known  his  benevolent  errand. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HAYE  called,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the 
wolf,  so  thoroughly  disguised  as  a  sheep 
that  a  person  unacquainted  with  his 
real  character  must  have  believed  him  the 
dear  innocent  he  represented,  "to  see  if  I 
could  interest  you  in  a  poor  family  (I  will 
only  detain  you  a  moment)  that  I  have  lately 
had  fall  upon  my  hands.  A  very  interesting 
case,  I  assure  you,  —  a  widow  and  five  children, 
the  eldest  only  eight  years  old.  I  have  just 
returned  from  the  miserable  apartments  in  which 
they  live,  and  the  distress  I  have  been  com- 
pelled to  witness,  accustomed  as  I  am  to  scenes 
of  destitution  and  wretchedness,  has  caused  my 
heart  to  ache  bitterly." 

"I  am   very   much    engaged    this    afternoon 
Mr.  ,"  replied   the  merchant  kindly,  "and 

have   not  time   to   talk   the   matter  over;   but, 

(128) 


UP  BROADWAY.  129 

to  relieve  immediate  distress,  allow  me  to  give 
you  a  small  sum,  which  will  at  least  keep 
the  family  from  starving  for  a  few  days ; " 
and  I  turned  to  see  a  fifty-dollar  greenback 
just  on  the  point  of  being  transferred  to  the 
minister's  long  greedy  fingers.  At  that  mo- 
ment I  confronted  him.  Many  times  in  my 
life  have  I  waxed  wroth  and  indignant,  but 
never  before  did  I  feel  so  thoroughly  pugi- 
listic !  I  could  well  understand  then  how  men, 
taught,  as  they  are,  from  infancy,  the  "manly 
art "  of  self-defence,  are  ready,  when  occasion 
demands  it,  to  pitch  in  and  make  a  corporeal 
impression  where  a  moral  one  is  not  possible. 
There  was  no  question  but  the  scamp  needed, 
as  Mrs.  Partington  would  express  it,  "a  good, 
sound  trouncing;"  but  all  I  could  do  was  to 
glare .  with  my  eyes,  and  "  trounce "  with  my 
tongue,  which  I  declare  was  never  in  better 
running  order. 

"Put  that  money  back  in  your  pocket,  sir," 
I  commanded,  more  like  Xantippe  herself  than 
the  modest,  self-possessed  woman  I  was  desirous 
of  showing  myself.  "  I  would  not  trust  that  man 


130  UP  BROADWAY. 

with  ten  cents;  a  man  who  will  assist  in  the 
downfall  of  women,  who  will  lie,  and  creep,  and 
play  the  part  of  a  seducer  and  hypocrite  through 
the  week  and  explain  the  word  of  God  on  the 
Sabbath,  will  also  steal.  Give  me  the  residence 
of  that  poor  family  whose  sorrows  you  so 

glowingly  picture.      Mr.   and  myself  are 

just  going  out,  and  we  will  call  there  and 
render  all  the  assistance  necessary." 

The  merchant  came  to  my  side,  and  taking 
my  hand  in  his,  said  soothingly  and  respect- 

folly,- 

"But,  my  dear  friend,  you  have  made  a 

mistake  ;  this  gentleman  is  the-  Rev.  Mr.  , 

whose  character  is  above  reproach." 

"It  would  be  unbecoming  a  Christian  gen- 
tleman," said  the  parson,  who  had  just  found 
breath  to  speak,  "  to  show  any  anger  in  re- 
plying ;  yet  I  feel  that  there  is,  as  the  just 
and  glorious  Paul  expresses  it,  such  a  sentiment 
as  righteous  indignation.  This  female,"  with  an 
accent  on  female,  which,  under  other  circum- 
stances, would  have  been  ludicrous  to  the 
last  degree,  "I  have  never,  in  my  life,  laid 


UP  BROAD  WA  T.  131 

eyes  on  until  this  moment,  and  I  defy  her, 
or  any  one  else,  to  produce  an  incident  in 
my  life  which  shall  reflect  to  my  discredit." 

"If  you  can  trust  me  in  other  matters,  sir," 
I  replied,  addressing  my  companion,  who  still 
stood  close  by  my  side,  "you  may  trust  me 
in  this.  A  short  time  ago,  a  poor  woman, 
whose  life  had  been  cursed  by  disappointment 
and"- 

"I  shall  be  compelled  to  bid  you  good  af- 
ternoon, sir"  interrupted  the  clerical  cheat, 
making  for  the  door.  "  I  will  call  again,  when 
sure  of  finding  you  alone.  Your  visitor  is 
evidently  an  excellent  candidate  for  Blooming^ 
dale.  I  cannot  remain  without  losing  my  tem- 
per, although  aware  that  the  woman  labors 
under  the  strangest  hallucination  possible  to 
conceive  of." 

"You  will  go,  sir,"  said  I,  "when  I  have 
finished,  and  not  until  then,"  and  placing  my- 
self against  the  door,  effectually  barred  his  egress. 
"As  I  said  before,  a  woman  who  had  been 
driven  to  desperation  by  the  bitterest  disap- 
pointment, who  was  unable  to  procure  by  hon- 


132  UP  BROAD  WA  Y. 

est  labor  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life, 
broken  down  with  her  weight  of  woe,  appealed 
to  this  man  for  spiritual  comfort.  He  talked 
to  her  a  little  while  of  Jesus,  of  the  won- 
derful love  and  wisdom  of  God  in  thus  prov- 
ing his  boundless  affection  by  the  great  test 
of  chastisement,  and  then  volunteered  to  call 
on  her.  She  gave  him  permission,  hoping  there 
might  be  something  in  the  religion  of  which 
he  was  a  popular  representative,  to  cheer  and 
console.  One  visit  served  to  demonstrate  the 
fact  that  her  spiritual  adviser  merely  sought 
his  own  lustful  gratification.  You  may  well 
look  astonished;  but  tliis  is  the  literal  truth; 
and  if  my  word  is  not  sufficient,  I  am  pre- 
pared to  prove  it." 

The  merchant's  face  was  ashen  pale.  I  could 
see  that  he  had  a  suspicion  of  the  truth. 

"His  intended  victim  was  not — was  not" , 

he  inquired,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

I  shot  him  a  glance,  which  he  interpreted 
aright,  and  continued :  "I  do  not  believe  he 
can  give  the  residence  of  any  such  family  as 
he  has  described;  not  that  there  are  not  him- 


UP  BROAD  WA  T.  133 

dreds  of  such  in  our  midst;  but  the  poor  and 
needy  are  among  the  least  of  his  troubles. 
Your  minister  simply  desired  an  addition  to 
his  pocket-money  for  some  anticipated  sub- 
rosa,  anti-orthodox  spree.  You  are  at  liberty 
to  leave  now  as  quickly  as  you  please." 

"  You  will  live  long  enough  to  repent  this, 
I  trust,"  roared  the  parson,  making  a  hasty 
and  undignified  exit. 

"How  much  money  has  that  fellow  fleeced 
you  out  of,  I  wonder  ? "  I  could  not  help 
asking,  as  the  merchant  contemplated  the  door, 
from  whence  had  issued  this  clerical  humbug. 

"Is  it  possible  that  1  have  been  imposed 
upon  all  this  time?"  he  replied.  "I  really 
can  make  no  estimate  of  the  amounts  I  have 
given  the  man  from  time  to  time ;  thousands 
of  dollars,  probably;  and,  no  doubt,  every  shil- 
ling has  been  transferred  to  the  man's  own 
pocket.  Tell  me,  Mrs.  Kirk,  where  did  you 
first  make  the  discovery  in  regard  to  his  real 
character?"  And  the  sad  eyes  took  on  a  sad- 
der look,  as  he  waited  for  me  to  answer. 

"Oh!   never  mind  where,    just    now,"   I  re- 


134  UP  BROADWAY. 

plied,  evasively;    "I    will    entertain  you    some 
time  with  an    account  of   n   few  of   my  experi- 

enees  ;    and    now   let  US  go  before  we  are  again. 

interrupted.'5 

"Something  told  me,  my  friend,"  he  con- 
tinued, without  withdrawing  his  gaze,  "that  my 
Marv  was  the  woman  you  ha\e  reference  to. 
If  it  is  so,  tell  me;  and,  l>y  Heaven,  I'll  tind 
a  wav  to  make  the  w  ret  eh  wish  he  had  never 
been  horn.  Tell  me  now  !  it  is  my  right  to 
know." 

Aye,  thought  I,  how  many  terrible  things  you 
had  yet  to  learn,  my  dear  sir!  How  are  you 
to  bear  the  disclosures  M'hich  must  be  made? 
Would  it  not  be  well  to  keep  the  past  a  secret? 
AVhy  is  it  necessary  to  harrow  up  the  man's  soul 
with  an  account  of  the  manner  in  which  his 
Mary  had  kept  herself  and  ehild  from  starving 
during  the  long  years  he  had  been  separated 
from  her?  Surely,  Mary  would  never  tell  him, 
and  1  was  morally  certain  1  never  should. 
Y\'ould  the  man  grasp  the  whole  truth  by  his 
keen  intuition-:  And  then  again,  wasn't  there 
another  side  to  the  picture?  Had  lie  any  right 


UP  BROADWAY.  135 

to  inquire  how  she;  had  supported  herself,  BO  long 
as  ho  had  boon  the  cause  of  her  hand-to-hand 
struggle  with  the  agonizing  realities  of  life? 
And  then,  again,  there  wan  poor,  weak  human 
nature,  there  were  the  rules  and  requirements  of 
established  conventionalisms  which  say  to  a  man: 
"We  will  wink  at  whatever  sin  you  may  commit. 
It  is  not  very  pretty,  perhaps;  but,  then,  had 
women  arc  necessary  evils ;"  and  to  the  woman, 
"(iot  thee  behind  me,  Satan!  The  very  night  of 
you  is  contamination."  I  weighed  all  these, 
and  pitied  my  companion  more  than  over.  Men 
are  taught  from  childhood  to  expect  so  mueh 
more  from  their  mothers,  sisters,  and  lady  friends 
than  ever  comes  into  the  head  of  a  woman  to 
demand  from  the  opposite  sex,  that  it  is  no 
wonder  that  many  men  are  unreasonable  in  their 
expectations,  and  despotic  in  their  government. 
The,  whole  social  puz/lo  scorned  unravelled  then, 
and  it  has  ever  since  appeared  very  singular  to 
me  that  women  who  have;  had  opportunities  for 
cultivation  and  mental  and  spiritual  growth,  an; 
not  awake  to  the  fact  that  a  woman  should  be 
held  in  no  more  disrespect  for  ministering  to  a 


136  UP  BROAD  WA  Y. 

man's  pleasure  or  necessity  than  the  man  himself. 
It  always  did  seem  to  me  an  even  thing ;  and  yet, 
in  common  with  the  rest  of  my  sex,  I  find  that  I 
have  often  entertained  the  seducer,  and  turned 
a  cold  shoulder  to  the  seduced,  for  which  my 
conscience  reproaches  me  bitterly. 

"I  am  overwehelmed  with  the  disclosures  of 
the  day,"  the  merchant  resumed.  "  I  knew  that 
the  world  was  full  of  hypocrites ;  but  I  had  no 
idea  that  a  man  ..occupying  the  high  position  he 
does,  would  dare  to  commit  such  crimes  against 
society.  Don't  look  at  me  so  reproachfully,"  he 
continued,  after  a  brief  scanning  of  my  coun- 
tenance. "I  know  what  you  thought  that  mo- 
ment. This  was  it :  How  dare  he  make  com- 
parisons? Did  he  not  deceive  a  good  woman, 
and  by  this  deception  entail  woe  and  disgrace 
upon  her  ?  I  tell  you,  madam,"  and  the  pale  face 
blanched  to  an  ashen  whiteness,  "I  will  not 
allow  you  to  think  of  that  rascal  and  myself  at 
the  same  time.  I  sinned  from  love  and  he  from 
lust.  Do  you  not  see  the  difference  ?  " 

"  I  should  think,  my  friend,  that  you  might  be 
aware,  from  the  great  difference  in  my  manner 


UP  BROADWAY  137 

towards  you  and  the  rascal  who  has  just  depar- 
ted, of  my  real  feelings,  even  if  I  had  not  ex- 
pressed as  much  in  language.  You  have  my 
heartiest,  my  most  earnest  sympathy;  and  now 
let  us  go." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times,  my 
friend,  for  my  hasty  language.  What  business 
have  I,  after  all,  to  excuse  myself ;  I  who  have 
doomed  to  poverty  and  ignominy  my  heart's 
choice,  and  my  own  flesh  and  blood  ?  It  ill  be- 
comes me  to  talk  about  others!  And  yet,  my 
contempt  for  the  wretch  who  has  just  left  us  is 
every  bit  as  profound  as  if  I  had  never  been 
guilty  of  sin.  One  of  the  inconsistencies  of 
poor  human  nature,  I  presume.  You  said,  let  us 
go.  Yes,  let  us  go  quickly.  There  is  not  a  mo- 
ment to  be  lost.  What  have  we  been  dallying 
here  for,  when  my  poor  little  ones  are  ill  and  in 
danger  ?  Oh  !  good  God  !  just  to  think  of  it ; 
all  these  years  starving  and  I  rolling  in  luxury. 
Why  did  she  run  from  me?  I  could,  at  least, 
have  provided  her  with  physical  comforts. 
Come  now,  I  will  order  the  carriage,  and  we  will 
go.  Give  me  some  idea  of  how  I  am  to  find 


138  UP  BROAD  WA  T. 

them,  or  I  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  control 
myself." 

"Please  do  not  disappoint  me,"  I  replied, 
hoping  to  calm  the  almost  insane  man,  by  appeal- 
ing to  his  pride.  "  I  have  felt  all  along  that  I 
could  rely  upon  you  most  implicitly.  Your  dear 
ones  are  comfortably  provided  for ;  but  the  local- 
ity in  which  they  have  been  compelled  to  reside, 
as  I  told  you  before,  is  a  wretched  one  ;  but  you 
must  not  think  of  surroundings.  Your  every 
energy  must  be  bent  toward  the  accomplishment 
of  a  great  purpose,  namely,  the  future  happi- 
ness of  the  woman  and  child  who  have  been 
kept  in  the  mire  of  poverty  and  anguish  by  the 
great  mistake  made  by  you  in  misrepresenting 
your  real  social  position.  You  see,  my  dear  sir, 
everything  comes  directly  back  to  you.  And  if 
you  are  not  wonderfully  discreet  and  self-poised, 
I  cannot  be  answerable  for  consequences." 

"  Oh !  you  may  trust  me ;  I  will  be  good ; 
indeed  I  will.  You  shall  never  have  a  word  of 
fault  to  find.  I  will  redeem  the  past  with  the 
glory  of  my  future." 

There  was  a  childish  pathos  about  the  voice, 


UP  BROAD  WA  T.  139 

and  an  indescribably  earnest  expression  of  the 
fine  mouth,  that  brought  me  again  to  the  reali- 
zation of  the  fact  that  a  woman  with  more  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  than  Mary  possessed,  when,  im- 
mature and  unsophisticated,  he  ran  with  her  from 
her  father's  house,  would  have  been  quite  excus- 
able for  allowing  her  heart  to  greet  him  quickly. 
"  See  if  I  don't,"  he  continued.  "  Indeed  you 
may  always  trust  me.  Come,"  and  drawing  my 
arm  through  his  we  went  down  the  street  into  the 
carriage,  and  rolled  away  towards  the  miserable 
tenement.  "  Mulberry  street,  did  you  say  I  "  al- 
most groaned  my  companion. 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 

IH !  this  tedious,  dreadful  groping ;  this 
wearisome  seeking  of  the  soul  for  light ; 
this  desire  to  find  some  clue  to  the 
strange  entanglement — some  thread  that  will 
finally  lead  out  of  the  snarl !  May  not  one  be 
pardoned  for  honest  doubt,  even  by  those  who 
stand  firmest  in  the  faith  of  a  merciful  God  and 
a  glorious  hereafter  ? 

Can  such  things  be,  and  overcome  us,  like  a 
summer's  cloud,  without  our  special  wonder? 
Every  revolution  of  the  wheels  was  taking  us 
nearer  to  Mary.  How  would  she  stand  the  meet- 
ing ?  How  did  I  dare  to  take  so  much  responsi- 
bility upon  myself?  If  the  All-wise  and 
All-merciful  had  desired,  could  He  not  have 
brought  happiness  to  this  strangely-led,  strangely- 
chastened  husband  and  wife,  without  my  inter- 
ference ?  What  was  the  need  of  keeping  these 

(140) 


UP  BROAD  WAY.  141 

two  souls  apart  which  love  had  seemingly  joined 
and  sanctified  ?  Was  it  wicked  (yes,  I  suppose  it 
was ;  but  I  couldn't  help  it,  any  more  than  I 
could  keep  back  the  tears  that  would  roll  out  of 
my  eyes  each  time  I  looked  at  the  poor  fellow  by 
my  side)  to  wonder  what  /should  have  done  had 
I  been  the  ruler  of  the  universe  ?  They  would 
have  been  my  children  ! 

Motherly  love  immediately  flew  over  to  Brook- 
lyn, where  my  own  sunny-haired  darlings  were, 
and  as  imagination  conjured  up  a  vision  of  my- 
self, rod  in  hand,  pelting  remorselessly  into  my 
own  flesh  and  blood,  just  because  I  loved  them,  I 
grew  hard  and  sceptical  and  out  'of  patience ; 
and  the  conclusion  was  forced  upon  me,  that  the 
world  would  consider  such  a  mother  anything 
but  loving  and  motherly.  I  reviewed  my  own 
troubles.  I  tell  you,  one  can  think  quickly 
sometimes ;  and  somehow  it  came  upon  me  that 
I  had  not  been  consulted  in  regard  to  my  own 
manufacture  or  creation.  If  I  had,  with  the  least 
knowledge  of  life's  bitterness,  I  should  most 
respectfully  have  declined  the  honor.  So  would, 
probably,  the  man  by  my  side ;  so  would  most 


14:2  UP  BROAD  WA  T. 

everybody.  "  That  train  of  thought,"  exclaims 
the  pious  reader,  "  is  not  a  very  profitable  one." 
Perhaps  not ;  but  I  should  like  to  inquire  of  my 
pious  friend,  what  one's  common  sense  or  reason- 
ing faculties  were  given  one  for,  if  not  to  use  ? 
and  how,  in  the  name  of  that  common  sense,  a 
man  or  a  woman  can  be  satisfied  with  continued 
castigation  ?  How  a  loving  heart,  longing  for 
love,  the  exquisite  essence  of  life ;  longing  for 
appreciation,  for  sympathy,  for  love's  complete 
environment, — :can  be  made  to  have  patience  with 
misconstruction,  separation,  and  the  lack  of 
everything  that  soul  demands  for  healthy  devel- 
opment ?  My  companion  was  in  dead  earnest, 
so  was  Mary,  so  was  I ;  and  yet  the  cup  of  sor- 
row had  been  drained  to  the  last  and  bitterest 
dregs  by  each  one  of  us. 

"  My  God  !  what  is  all  this  for  ?"  I  could  not 
help  exclaiming,  though  bitterly  against  my 
will. 

"  For  joy,  I  hope,  my  dear  friend,"  exclaimed 
my  companion,  taking  my  hand  in  his,  and  cov- 
ering it  tenderly  with  the  other  palm. 

"You  have  suffered,  too ;  and  I  have  been  so 


UP  BROAD  WA  Y.  143 

absorbed  in  my  own  trouble  as  not  to  have  no- 
ticed it.  Sorrow  makes  one  selfish,  I  think. 
The  past,  with  me,  will  simply  resolve  itself  into 
an  unpleasant  dream,  if  I  am  only  able  to  make 
amends  in  future.  Don't  sob  so,  my  dear  child, 
don't."  And  the  low  tones,  so  intensely  musical, 
brought  a  calm  to  my  soul,  which  at  that  mo- 
ment was  doubly  blessed. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  I ;  and  in  a  moment  more 
the  driver  reined  up  in  front  of  the  tumble-down 
shanty. 

"  Come  back  to  me  in  an  hour  for  further 
orders,"  said  the  merchant,  as  the  coachman 
waited.  "  It  is  hardly  safe  to  wait  here  that 
length  of  time." 

I  could  not  help  wondering  at  the  new  tone 
which  the  voice  had  taken  on.  I  knew  there 
would  be  no  more  breaking  down ;  not  that  the 
conflict  was  over ;  but  the  necessity  had  arrived 
for  quick  and  decisive  action  —  for  careful  self- 
control  —  and.  the  man  was  ready  for  the  emer- 
gency. "We  stopped  one  moment  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs. 


144:  UP  BROADWAY. 

"Well,  what  are  we  waiting  for?"  he  asked, 
calmly. 

"  I  will  go  in  first,  and  after  a  little  prepara- 
tion, will  give  the  signal  for  you  to  enter." 

"  As  you  think  best,"  he  replied.  "  But  for 
the  love  of  mercy,  do  not  be  long." 

Just  think!  This  man  had  waited  ten  long, 
weary  years  —  ten.  years  of  agony  and  torture  in- 
describable; had  groped  along  hopelessly,  with- 
out glimmer  of  light,  and  now  the  day  had 
dawned,  and  there  was  prospect  of  that  peace 
which  comes  from  mutual  understanding.  The 
goal  was  near — within  reaching  distance;  but 
the  hard  patience,  which  had  previously  sustained 
him,  was  now  quite  gone,  and  in  its  place  had 
come  again  that  insatiable  longing,  born  of  hope, 
which  would  not  brook  an  instant's  delay. 

"  Please  remember  that  I  understand  perfectly 
how  you  feel,  and  will  be  as  expeditious  as  I 
think  prudent.  May  the  Lord  grant  that  the  step 
I  have  taken — apparently  so  impulsively,  and  so 
replete  with  love  and  goodwill — may  result  as 
you  desire." 


UP  BROADWAY.  145 

"Amen,"  he  moaned,  with  bowed  head,  and 
hands  convulsively  clasped. 

Now,  perhaps,  some  one  will  say  that  I  had  no 
right  to  supplicate  in  such  a  manner.  Why  not? 
I  craved  a  boon,  and  asked  my  Heavenly  Father 
for  it.  I  desired  an  especial  blessing  upon  my 
friends,  who,  it  seemed  to  me,  had  earned  a 
blessing.  I  asked  for  something  I  wanted,  just 
the  same  as  I  used  to  ask  my  own  earthly  father 
for  the  means  to  aid  those  who  stood  in  need  of 
comforting,  knowing  that  he  was  abundantly 
able  and  willing  to  grant  my  humane  requests. 
What  is  the  use  of  praying,  if  one  doesn't  pray 
for  what  one  wants  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  most 
supplications  are  at  least  miserable  farces.  Ever 
since  I  can  remember,  I  have  wondered  at  the 
style  of  prayer  adopted  by  most  ministers.  It 
has  always  appeared  to  me  that  if  God  really 
listened  to  the  twaddle  which  Sabbath  after 
Sabbath  was  spun  out,  and  respun,  and  worked 
over  again,  in  long-winded  descriptions  of  His 
especial  attributes  (just  as  if  a  man  thought  to 
make  himself  popular  with  Deity  by  playing 
upon  his  vanity),  that  if  disgust  could  be  felt  by 
10 


146  UP  BROADWAY. 

one  so  wise  and  loving,  there  would  not  be  room 
for  any  other  sensation  save  that  and  pity  !  And 
then,  to  ask  for  a  host  of  things  which  seem  es- 
pecially desirable,  after  having  explained  to  the 
Almighty  the  immense  benefit  to  be  derived  from 
such  and  such  a  programme,  to  end  with,  in 
substance,  this :  "  But,  oh  Lord !  this  seems  to  us 
wisest  and  best;  but  it  is  no  matter  about  it — 
any  way  that  suits  you  will  please  me  wonder- 
fully." !Nbw,  I  don't  believe  there  can  be  found 
one  man,  or  one  woman,  in  one  thousand,  who,  if 
he  or  she  knows  calamity  is  threatening  them — 
death  or  disgrace  staring  themselves  or  loved 
ones  in  the  face — but  will,  if  they  believe  at  all 
in  prayer,  pray  with  all  their  might  and  main  to 
have  the  trouble  averted ;  and  if  they  end  such 
supplications  with,  "  Not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou 
thinkest  best,"  the  most  are  guilty  of  falsehood, 
for  it  is  not  within  the  limits  of  human  endur- 
ance to  be  willing  to  be  constantly  scourged.  I 
don't  believe  in  praying  for  a  new  bonnet,  or  a 
new  suit  of  clothes,  or  a  ride,  or  a  journey  ;  but 
if  the  soul,  which  must  be  a  part  of  God's,  desires 
to  be  gloriously  filled  with  that  love,  which  all 


UP  BROADWAY.  147 

admit  to  be  a  direct  emanation  from  Omnipo- 
tence, the  wisest  thing,  in  my  judgment,  is  to  ask 
for  it,  to  plead  for  it,  because  one  wants  it, 
and  end  with,  "  I  want  it — I  want  it — and  can- 
not be  denied."  A  child  may  be  very  still  under 
keen  disappointment — when  its  father  has  de- 
nied certain  things  which  seemed  to  the  little 
one  eminently  just  and  proper — may  be  still, 
because  realizing  that  no  effort  of  the  feeble  will 
can  avail  against  the  stronger  paternal  one ;  but 
it  is  the  silence  of  defeat,  and  sometimes  of 
graceful  submission,  but  never  because  the  child 
has  given  up  desiring  the  pleasure  its  little  heart 
so  earnestly  yearned  for.  It  isn't  honest  to  say 
to  God,  "I  am  resigned  to  any  trouble  you 
may  see  proper  to  afflict  me  with,  even  if  Christ 
did  say,  "Thy  will  be  done." 

As  I  turned  from  my  friend,  old  Mother 
Thurston  came  out  of  her  room,  on  her  way  up- 
stairs. 

"Oh,  my  dear!"  exclaimed  the  kind-hearted 
old  woman,  "I  am  so  glad  you  have  got  back; 
I  have  been  praying  for  it  for  the  last  half- 
hour." 


148  tfP  BROADWAY. 

• 

Good  gracious !  how  my  heart  throbbed.  I 
could  have  taken  her  into  my  arms,  and  hugged 
her,  rags  and  all,  for  just  that  one  little  sen- 
tence. 

"But,  Mother  Thurston,  what  did  you  do 
that  for  ?  "  I  inquired,  hoping  that  I  had  at  last 
found  the  right  description  of  faith. 

"  What  for,  do  you  ask,  honey  ?  Why,  that  is 
a  funny  question  to  come-  from  such  as  you. 
"Why  I  asked  the  Lord  to  send  you  straight  back, 
because  I  wanted  you,  sure,  and  the  poor  creetur 
up  stairs  needed  you,  of  course." 

There  it  was.  She  had  asked  for  what  she 
wanted;  and  I  don't  believe  it  occurred  to  her 
to  end  with,  "Never  mind  about  it;  it's  all 
the  same  to  me." 

"I  told  her  you'd  be  here  afore  long.  You 
see  I  somehow  knowed  it.  She  has  been  dread- 
ful kind  of  anxious  about  something,  and  has 
ee'n  amost  strained  her  big  eyes  out  of  her  head 
watching  the  door.  I  couldn't  get  a  word  out  of 
her,  no  how." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  see  I  am  back  again,"  I 


UP  BROADWAY.  149 

said,  catching  the  brilliant  eye  of  the  invalid  as  1 
opened  the  door. 

"I  hope  you  are  feeling  better." 

"Where  have  you  been?"  she  asked,  almost 
under  her  breath,  drawing  my  head  down  on 
the  pillow  beside  her. 

"  Oh !  just  to  make  a  call,"  I  answered, 
evasively. 

"  I  am  so  glad,  and  so  sorry ;  I  hoped,  and  I 
was  afraid.  You  know  what  you  said  when  you 
went  out.  "Well,  I  wa's  frightened,  because  you 
know  he  could  never  forgive  me  and  love  me 
as  he  used;  and  I  would  much  rather  die  than 
be  pitied;  but  oh,  my  Father!  I  could  forgive 
him  anything,  no  matter  what  it  was — could 
love  him  if  he  had  committed  the  unpardonable 
sin." 

"  What  do  you  call  the  unpardonoble  sin,  my 
dear  ? "  I  interrupted,  purposely. 

"Oh!  1  don't  know,"  she  replied,  dreamily, 
but"- 

"The  unpardonable  sin,  my  child,  with  him, 
would  be  his  failure  to  love  you  as  formerly; 
his  determination  not  to  overlook  a  past  for 


150  UP  BKOADWAT. 

which  he  is  greatly  responsible;  but  I  don't 
think  I  should  say  but  little  of  that  past  just 
now,  Mary." 

Oh!  how  she  glared  at  me.  "Some  things 
may  safely  be  left  to  be  inferred,  temporarily, 
at  least,"  I  continued,  taking  no  notice  of  her 
flashing  eyes.  "  It  is  better  they  should  be." 

"  Tell  me  now,  have  you  ?  Oh,  no,  you  would 
not  be  so  cruel.  You  would  never  dare  take 
advantage  of  an  accident.  I  never  told  you  his 
name — would  have  died  before  such  disgrace 
should  have  been  brought  upon  him." 

"What  does  mother  mean  by  disgrace?"  in- 
quired little  Mary,  advancing  to  the  bedside, 
and  taking  the  thin,  white  hand  of  her  mother 
in  hers. 

"It  seems  to  me  (of  course,  I  don't  know 
much  about  it),  but  it  seems  to  me  a  dreadful 
disgrace  for  a  little  girl  not  to  have  any  father 
she  can  call  so,  and  yet  have  a  father  living. 
Aun^e  Kirk,  I  have  prayed  ever  since  you  went, 
every  minute  of  the  time,  to  the  Lord  God, 
that  if  my  mother's — "  and  here  the  little  girl 
hesitated  for  the  right  word,  and  finished 


HP  BROADWAY.  151 

with — "my  mother's  love,  and  my  father  was 
living,  you  would  find  him ;  and  if  you  haven't, 
I* shall.  I'm  not  going  to  bear  such  nonsense 
as  this  much  longer,  I  can  tell  you."  And  a 
look  of  determination,  almost  of  defance,  trans- 
formed the  child's  face  into  that  of  a  stern,  in- 
flexible woman. 

"I  don't  suppose  he's  much  to  brag  about, 
anyhow;  but  it's  a  good  thing  to  get  acquainted 
with  one's  relations,  especially  one's  father.  I 
know  who  he  is  now,  and  where  to  find  him; 
and  if  killed  for  it  the  next  minute,  I'll  make 
him  understand  t'other  from  which.  I  don't 
like  sickness,  and  sorrow,  and  tears,  and  rags, 
and  a  nasty  old  house  in  Mulberry  street,  and  an 
empty  stomach,  and  cold  feet,  and  no  good  shoes, 
and  no  nothing  generally;  and  then,  there  is 
something  here,"  laying  her  little  hand  on  her 
heart,  an  angelic  expression  taking  the  place  of 
the  late  defiant  one;  "there  is  something  here 
that  wants  somebody,  something  I  never  had  — 
that  isn't  clothes  or  victuals  —  something  to  love 
me  —  fit  to  kill  me  —  and  if  it  isn't  my  father, 
who  in  the  world  should  it  be  ?  But  I  wouldn't 


152  UP  BROADWAY. 

speak  to  him  if  lie  should  walk  into  this  room 
now  —  until  —  well  until/'  Here  the  tears  com- 
menced to  flow.  "Pshaw!  what's  the  matter 
with  me  ? "  she  continued.  "  I'm  almost  as  bad 
as  mother !  "What  was  I  saying  ? "  and  the 
pearly  drops  came  faster.  "  Oh !  that  I  wouldn't 
speak  to  him  until  —  well,  until  he  told  me  that 
he  loved  me  —  that's  when!  "What  a  goose  I 
am !  I  remember  what  you  told  me,  Auntie  Kirk 
—  that  you  didn't  believe  he  was  so  dreadful 
much  to  blame.  I  have  been  thinking  of  it 
ever  since.  That  is  the  only  real  good  thing 
that  ever  was  said  to  me  in  my  whole  life ! 
Bless  his  old  heart ! " 

I  knew  that  the  "mother's  4ove,"  and  the 
child's  father  was  drinking  in  every  word,  for  I 
had  purposely  left  the  door  ajar. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

|H !  how  that  child  tortures  me !  Mary, 
you  will  drive  me  mad !  Surely,  my 
punishment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear ! " 
murmured  the  sufferer,  turning  her  face  to  the 
wall. 

"What  are  you  always  talking  about  pun- 
ishment for,  mother?  Didn't  you  love  my 
father?  say — now  please  tell  me?  Do  you  not 
love  him  now?  Have  you  not  always  loved 
him?  You  don't  speak.  God  is  love,  is  he 
not?  He  made  the  love,  didn't  He?  If  He 
didn't  know  that  you  and  my  father  were  go- 
insr  to  love  each  other,  and  that  I  should 

O  7 

come  into  this  abominable  old  world,  I  am 
right  sure  lie  didn't  know  much,  and  what's 
the  use  of  talking  about  it?  It's  all  plain 
enough;  when  you  come  to  think,  just  rig] it. 
There  is  either  somebody  who  fixes  things  as 

(153) 


154:  UP  BROADWAY. 

they  ought  to  be,  else  there  isn't,  that's  all ; 
and  what's  the  sense  of  fretting  either  way?" 

"That  is  very  strange  talk  for  a  little  girl," 
said  the  invalid,  forgetful  for  a  moment  of 
the  agony  she  was  enduring. 

"  I  know  it,  mother.  I  know  it,  Auntie  Kirk. 
I  just  feel  that  I  am  nothing  but  a  little  girl; 
but  I  have  had  plenty  of  time  to  thinJc,  and 
I  have  done  it,  too.  I  couldn't  have  come 
here  without  the  Lord  willed  it  so.  I  am  one 
more,  just  a  little  speck  more,  that  is  all; 
but  if  He  has  counted  the  hairs  in  everybody's 
head,  it  wouldn't  be  fair  to  leave  mine  out; 
and  just  please  tell  me  how  in  the  world  I 
could  be  here  if  God  didn't  desire  it  so? 
And  now — (I  only  wish  I  knew  how  to  talk. 
I  will  one  of  these  days,  see  if  I  don't)," 
and  the  dark,  beautiful  eyes,  so  luminous  with 
intelligence  and  that  winsome  spirituality,  which 
was  the  darling's  greatest  attraction,  became  so 
magnetically  fascinating,  that  both  her  mother 
and  myself  were  spell-bound  for  the  instant. 
"And  now,"  she  continued,  "He  must  have 
known  all  about  who  was  to  be  my  mother 


UP  BROADWAY.  155 

and  father;  and  I  shouldn't  have  been  my- 
self at  all  if  it  hadn't  been  so — do  you  see? 
And  if  God  fixed  it  that  way,  it  must  be 
right,  and  there  is  no  sort  of  use  in  crying 
over  it.  /  shall  go  to  my  father,  if  you  haven't 
got  ahead  of  me,  Auntie.  I  see  something 
strange  in  your  eyes,  Auntie.  Mother,  look! 
Don't  you  see  it  too  ?  Oh !  you  have.  I  know 
you  have.  Mother,  are  you  blind?  I  have 
got  a  father,  and  that  father  loves  me ;  and 
mother,  you  have  got  a  love,  and  that  love 
loves  you ;  and  he  has  always  loved  you  ;  and 
I  can  be  kissed;  and  I  can  be  hugged,  and 
called  beautiful  names;  and  I  can  Jiave  all 
the  clean  stockings  I  want,  and  buttoned  gai- 
ters, just  big  enough,  and  nice  dresses ;  and 
mother  needn't  cry  any  more ;  and  she  can  be 
kissed,  and  have  a  nice  house  to  live  in.  Oh, 
Father  in  Heaven!"  and  here  the  distracted 
child  threw  herself  upon  her  knees.  "Oh, 
Father  in  Heaven!  what  a  dear,  kind,  good, 
splendid  Father,  to  have  waited  all  this  time 
until  this  little  girl  has  grown  big  enough  to 
know  what  comfort  is;  because,  dear  Father, 


156  UP  BROADWAY. 

if  she  had  always  had  what  she  wanted,  she 
would  never  have  known  how  good  it  was. 
Please  be  very  loving  to  Auntie  Kirk  for  mak- 
ing me  believe  that  it  would  all  come  out 
right  one  of  these  days;  because  the  feeling 
that  there  was  nobody  in  heaven  to  care  for 
me,  was  ten  million  times  worse  than  an  empty 
stomach,  and  no  stockings  and  shoes.  Make 
mother  see  it,  too.  Oh,  wont  it  be  jolly,  when 
my  own  papa  comes  and  folds  us  close  to  his 
heart?  and  it  will  be  you  that  sent  him.  You, 
oh,  dear,  good  Heavenly  Father,  who  gave  us 
all  trouble  that  we  might  taste  ease  of  com- 
fort. Give  Auntie  somebody  to  love  her,  too; 
somebody  that  will  make  her  heart  sing  all 
day,  and  be  glad  every  minute.  Change  the 
sad  light  in  her  eyes  to  one  so  full  of  joy  and 
gladness  that  everybody  who  meets  her  will 
know  her  heart  is  filled  up  to  the  very  tip 
top,  and  hasn't  room  for  a  bit  more.  Please, 
God,  don't  send  us  any  more  tears;  because 
we  have  all  cried  as  much  as  we  need3  and 
have  got  enough  of  it.  Make  mother  as  glad 
as  I  am  that  we  have  had  sorrow  and  trouble, 


UP  BROADWAY.  157 

but  for  all  our  sakes,  and  Jesus  Christ's  sake, 
send  mother's  love  to  us  quickly." 

"  Amen,"  responded  the  invalid,  now  as  calm 
as  a  child  upon  its  mother's  breast. 

"Amen,"  I  sobbed,  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  door. 

"Amen,"  came  in  deep,  sonorous  tones  from 
the  husband  and  father,  who  just  then  came 
slowly  into  the  apartment.  Mary,  with  her 
eyes  closed,  drinking  in  the  full  inspiration  of 
the  little  one's  prayer,  did  not  first  notice 
the  visitor,  but  the  child,  just  rising  from  her 
knees,  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  her  father. 

"With  an  enraptured  cry  of  "Papa!"  —  a  cry 
in  which  there  was  no  feeling  but  of  joy 
bliss,  and  love  unutterable;  a  cry  so  full  of 
angelic  affection  that  it  rings  in  my  ears 
still — then  with  a  mighty  effort  drew  back, 
saying,— 

"Not  me  first.  Oh,  not  me  first!  Mother, 
here's  your  love.  Oh,  what  a  splendid  God 
that  was  to  answer  my  prayer  so  soon!  I 
never  will  doubt  him  again." 

"My  love"   faintly  whispered    Mary,  slowly 


158  Z7P  BROADWAY. 

turning  her  head  toward  him.  "  What  do  you 
say,  my  love,  my  darling  ?  " 

Their  eyes  met.  So  far,  the  merchant  had 
not  spoken  a  word. 

"Oh,  no;  it  can't  be;  but  I  thought  I  saw 
him  then.  I  think  I  must  be  dying.  Mary, 
come  here.  I  am  going  —  go  —  "  and  the  weary 
lids  closed,  and  the  feeble  breath  seemed  to 
cease  entirely. 

"  Mary,  my  love,  my  darling,  my  angel,  speak 
to  me  !  I  am  here.  Your  own  precious  husband. 
Open  your  eyes.  God  is  good,  darling.  We 
shall  never  be  parted  again."  And  in  a  second 
more  the  limp  figure  was  in  his  arms.  Up  and 
down  the  seven-by-nine  apartment  he  walked, 
pressing  kiss  after  kiss  upon  cheek,  lip,  and  eye, 
calling  her  by  the  most  endearing  epithets.  Oh ! 
that  the  whole  world  could  have  seen  that 
reunion.  I  don't  care  how  straight-laced  or 
orthodox  or  conventional  they  might  have  been, 
every  other  feeling  would  have  been  swallowed 
up  in  the  one  glorious  idea  of  love. 

"She  has  fainted,"  I  ventured  to  suggest. 
"  Would  it  not  be  well  to  bathe  her  head  and 


UP  BROADWAY.  159 

face  with  cold  water?"  fearful  that  he  would 
extinguish  altogether  the  little  spark  of  life 
remaining. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  he  replied.  "  She  is 
reviving.  Joy  seldom  kills,  you  know."  And, 
sure  enough,  as  he  spoke,  the  trembling  lids 
unclosed,  and  the  recognition  was  complete. 
The  first  words  she  uttered  were,  — 

"  Charles,  am  I  dreaming  ?  or  am  I  in  heaven  ? 
But  then  you  don't  know  all.  Oh,  dearest' 
what  sent  you  back  to  me?  You  can  never 
forgive  me." 

"  Mary ! "  and  the  merchant  laid  the  invalid 
back  upon  her  pillows.  "Mary,  my  own  pre- 
cious wife,  I  implore  that  you  will  consider  me 
wholly  responsible  for  the  past,  whatever  that 
past  may  have  been,  and  please  never  revert  to 
it  again.  I  am  free  from  all  legal  ties,  and  you 
shall  be  mine  in  a  few  moments  by  human  law, 
as  you  have  always  been  by  the  divine.  "When 
you  are  stronger,  I  will  make  many  things  plain 
to  you  ;  and  now,  my  daughter" 

The  child's  face  was  as  pale  as  death;    but 


160  UP  BROADWAY. 

with  a  joyful  cry  she  bounded  into  his  arms, 
and  hid  her  head  in  his  neck. 

"All  I  could  have  asked,"  he  murmured. 
"As  sweet  and  as  beautiful  as  the  heart  of  a 
parent  could  desire." 

"What  long  whiskers;  and  how  black  they 
are;  and  what  big  eyes  you  have  got,  papa; 
and  how  much  they  are  like  mine,  and  mother^ ; 
and  how  handsome  you  are ;  and  oh,  dear 
Heavenly  Father !  how  much  I  love  him ;  but, 
papa,  what  a  long  time  you  have  been  coming" 

This  was  more  than  the  strong  man  could 
bear. 

"Yes,  darling,"  he  replied.  "But  I  have 
sought  you  day  and  night,  until  my  heart  was 
almost  broken."  And  then  he  burst  into  tears. 

"Oh,  don't,  papa!  please  don't!  No  more 
tears  now.  God  has  fixed  it  all  right.  If  it 
had  come  before,  we  shouldn't  have  been  half 
so  happy.  Let's  be  good." 

In  a  moment  more,  Mary  had  tottered  out  of 
bed,  and  drawing  her  husband's  hand  into  her 
bosom,  kissed  away  the  tears,  and  the  strong 
arm  gathered  her  once  more  to  her  resting-place. 


HP  BROADWAY.  161 

There  they  sat,  one  on  each  knee,  sheltered  and 
content. 

u  Oh !  Mrs.  Kirk,"  said  the  merchant,  a  bright 
smile  breaking  over  his  handsome  features,  "I 
wish  I  had  another  arm  to  offer  you." 

"  I  wish  you  had,"  I  murmured,  through  blind- 
ing tears  ;  for  to  save  my  life,  I  could  not  help  a 
sort  of  "  out-in-the-cold "  feeling  which  was  any- 
thing but  agreeable. 

"  Next  to  my  wife  and  child,  shall  I  always 
cherish  you,  if  you  will  let  me."  And  as  cherish 
had  a  very  pleasant  and  protective  sound  about 
it,  extremely  soothing  to  the  tired  soul,  I  gave 
him  both  my  hands  on  "cherish,"  and  this 
is  about  all.  An  hour  after,  the  invalid  was 

removed  to  the Hotel,  a  minister  summoned, 

and  the  nuptial  knot  tied ;  and  now  they  are  at 
home,  where,  dear  reader,  I  trust  your  blessing 
will  follow  them. 
11 


A  SEQUEL  TO  "UP  BROADWAY." 


"Life  is  too  short  for  logic.     What  I  do 
I  must  do  simply.     God  alone  must  judge, 

For  God  alone  shall  guide. 

I  have  snapped  opinion's  chains,  and  now  Til  soar 
Up  to  the  blazing  sunlight,  and  be  free." 

KlNGSLEY. 


A  SEQUEL  TO  "UP  BROADWAY." 


CHAPTER  I. 

]OO  short  for  logic!"  Ay,  too  short!  So 
let  us  now  for  a  while  shut  our  eyes 
upon  syllogisms,  formalities,  established 
conventionalisms,  and  legal  penumbra,  allowing 
heart  and  common-sense  to  utter  a  few  words  of 
truth  and  soberness. 

"  What  could  have  induced  you  to  give  '  Up 
Broadway '  to  the  world  ? "  is  an  inquiry  which 
has  been  made  thousands  of  times  since  its  pub- 
lication. "  I  cannot  conceive  how  you  dared  tell 
such  a  story."  "The  world  is  not  ready  for 
such  fearless  exposition  of  sentiment."  "Some 
things  will  not  bear  ventilating,  and  '  Up  Broad- 
way '  tends  to  immorality."  "  It  is  simply  impos- 
sible for  a  woman  who  has  once  sinned,  as  did 
the  heroine  of  your  story,  to  be  possessed  of  any 
purity  of  thought."  "  A  man  is  a  fool  to  trust 
a  woman  under  such  circumstances,"  etc. 

(165) 


166  SEQUEL  TO 

The  above  are  just  a  few  quotations  from  the 
scores  of  letters  I  have  received  in  reference  to 
"Up  Broadway."  The  amusing  part  of  the 
business  is-  that  not  one  of  these  critical  effu- 
sions fails  to  end  without  an  inquiry  as  to  my 
heroine's  whereabouts,  how  she  can  be  best 
approached ;  in  many  instances  requesting  let- 
ters of  introduction.  Does  this  not  tell  a  won- 
derful story?  Does  it  not  plainly  demonstrate 
that,  under  this  thick  crust  of  conservatism, 
which  must  of  a  necessity  beget  a  vision  short- 
ened and  distorted,  there  lies  a  kindliness  and 
nobility  of  purpose  which  needs  only  a  few 
mental  earthquakes  to  shock  into  action.  Occa- 
sionally these  dreamers  are  startled  from  their 
lethargy  by  an  account  of  some  tragic  affair, 
which  for  a  moment  sends  the  righteous  blood 
in  active  circulation.  Then  they  stop  to  think 
and  ask  what  these  things  mean,  and  are  often 
tempted  into  the  expression  of  opinions  which, 
not  unfrequently,  frighten  themselves.  The  last 
on  the  list  of  horrors  was  the  murder  of  Albert 
D.  Richardson  by  McFarland ;  a  man  who,  for 
love's  sake,  was  most  foully  murdered,  and  who 


UP  BROADWAY.  167 

as  surely  died  a  martyr  to  popular  ignorance 
and  bigotry  as  Stephen  Polycarp,  John  Brown, 
or  Lincoln.  So  we  go.  Richardson  is  not  can- 
onized yet;  therefore,  every  venerable  constitu- 
tional conservative,  from  the  Pope  at  Rome  to 
the  King  of  the  New  York  gambling  hell,  is 
busy  hurling  at  him  the  greater  anathema;  and 
every  obscure  little  dog  connected  with  tlie 
press  joins  in  the  chorus  of  howls:  and  the 
smaller  and  filthier  the  animal,  the  louder  his 
squeak  on  this  especial  topic;  the  nobler  and 
purer  the  men  who  have  defended  the  martyr, 
the  intenser  the  delight  with  which  these  curs 
strive  to  tread  them  under  foot.  Some  of  these 
puppies  may  grow  to  be  big  dogs  yet.  Who 
knows  \  But  the  majority,  we  fear,  will  waddle 
down  to  their  graves  growling  and  snarling,  un- 
mourned  and  unhonored  save  by  their  own  mon- 
grel brotherhood. 

"Why  did  Eleanor  Kirk  write  'Up  Broad- 
way'?" 

I  will  tell  you,  my  poor,  fettered,  scared-to- 
death  friends:  First,  because  "Up  Broadway" 
is  a  faithful  history  of  events  which  actually 


168  SEQUEL  TO 

took  place, — a  wonderful  one  in  some  respects, 
I  admit,  but  as  true  as  the  sunlight.  Secondly, 
because  I  felt  it  to  be  a  duty,  a  most  imper- 
ative duty,  that  I  owed  to  the  thousands  of 
women,  who,  through  cold  and  hunger,  heart 
and  soul  starvation,  have  been  driven  to  des- 
peration and  prostitution,  to  show  them  what 
one  woman,  by  the  aid  of  kindness  and  rightly- 
directed  sympathy,  has  been  able  to  accom- 
plish. Thirdly,  because  I  felt  that  the  world 
needed  just  such  a  history,  and  it  was  high 
time  that  these  one-sided,  straight-laced,  unfor- 
giving, canting  members  of  society  should 
thoroughly  understand  that  another  than  Christ 
had  for  love's  sweet  sake  forgiven  a  woman! 
And  lastly,  because  my  soul  reaches  longingly 
out  not  only  toward  the  oppressed  and  down- 
trodden of  my  own  sex,  but  to  all  those  who 
are  bound  by  the  fetters  of  an  unloved,  uncon- 
genial matrimonial  alliance.  Although  women 
may  be,  and  undoubtedly  are,  by  reason  of 
larger  sensitiveness  and  less  physical  force,  the 
greater  sufferers  from  such  unions,  yet  it  is  the 
height  of  folly  to  predicate  that  women  only 


UP  BROADWAY.  169 

are  made  miserable  by  this  non-conformity  of 
affection  and  natural  temperament.  I  know  of 
women  to-day  whom  an  angel  from  Heaven 
could  not  live  with  in  peace  and  harmony,  and 
would  probably  not  try  after  one  day's  experi- 
ence, because,  let  us  hope,  that  with  the  higher 
light  and  knowledge  which  men  must  attain  to 
in  another  state  of  existence,  they  understand  that 
which  it  would  be  well  for  many  poor,  unhappy, 
struggling  wretches  to  understand  on  earth, — 
that  a  marriage  without  love  is  no  marriage  at 
all.  I  realize  to  what  I  am  exposing  myself. 
"An  advocate  of  free  love!"  I  hear  some  of 
you  say.  "Yes,  sir;  yes,  madam;  free  love! 
Not  according  to  your  definition  of  the  term, 
however.  Love,  the  genuine  article,  the  divine, 
earnest,  glorious  affection  which  makes  men 
and  women  willing  to  be  scouted  at,  despised, 
injured,  maimed,  and  martyred  for  its  precious 
sake,  is  always  free.  Fetter  it  if  you  can;  im- 
prison it,  and  it  will  gush  out  from  between 
every  bar,  and  make  the  earth  glad  with  its 
melody. 

I  abhor  and  turn  my  back  upon  the  lust  and 


170  SEQVEL  TO 

licentiousness  which  characterize  the  devotees 
of  this  comparatively  new  doctrine.  What  do 
men  and  women  know  of  love  who  have  no 
wish  or  thought  beyond  the  gratification  of 
their  sensual  desires?  What  do  worms  and 
toads  understand  of  the  glory  of  God's  uni- 
verse? Still  we  cannot  help  seeing,  although 
we  admit  it  with  pain,  that  this  immoral 
state  of  the  community  is  chiefly  attributable 
to  the  fearful  amount  of  prostitution  in  mar- 
riage. In  other  words,  men  and  women,  tiring 
of  each  other,  discovering  too  late  to  be  of  ser- 
vice that  there  is  no  bond  of  sympathy  between 
them,  realizing  that  the  law  cannot  interfere 
in  such  cases,  start  out  in  pursuit  of  something 
which  they  are  unable  to  find  at  home.  Many, 
it  is  true,  wear  these  fetters  meekly,  making 
no  attempt  to  escape,  either  righteously  or  other- 
wise, from  the  thraldom  of  an  unloved,  un- 
happy marriage  relation.  Not  a  few  believe 
it  their  duty  to  stay  and  suffer,  and  so  sacri- 
fice health,  comfort,  and  everything  which 
makes  life  endurable,  to  a  morbid,  and,  when 
rightly  viewed  and  analyzed,  a  wicked  observ- 


UP  BROADWAY.  171 

ance  of  a  law  which  it  seems  to  me  could 
never  have  been  framed  for  the  intelligent, 
intellectual  nineteenth  century. 

"I  do  not  love  him;  he  is  unkind  to  me; 
he  never  consults  my  wishes ;  I  loathe  the  very 
idea  of  being  brought  in  close  personal  contact 
with  him:  what  shall  I  do?"  asks  more  than 
one  woman  in  New  York  to-day. 

"  Why,  leave  him ;  allow  him  to  go  his  way 
in  peace;  you  go  yours." 

"But  the  laws  of  the  State  will  not  allow 
me  a  divorce  for  unkindness,  or  brutal  treat- 
ment even.  I  am  not  prepared  to  prove  that 
my  husband  is  untrue  to  me." 

"Exactly,  my  dear;  but  that  does  not  alter 
your  duty.  Women,  strangely  enough,  seem  to 
have  imbibed  an  idea  that  when  they  are  tamely 
submitting  to  neglect  and  abuse,  to  fault-finding, 
and  blows  perhaps,  that  they  are  doing  God 
service ;  that  because,  according  to  a  ridiculous 
statute  which  insists  that  the  two  joined  together 
by  priest,  minister,  or  justice  of  the  peace,  God 
has  united,  they  must  consequently  endure  every 
species  of  indignity  which  either  or  both  desire 


172  SEQUEL   TO 

to  inflict.  "Wliat  a  grand  thing  it  will  be  for 
humanity  when  men  and  women  learn  that  no 
men  or  set  of  meii,  no  law  or  set  of  laws,  can 
bind  soul  to  soul,  and  that  neither  powers  or 
principalities,  things  above,  or  things  below,  are 
able  to  separate  soul  from  soul.  Will  some  one 
explain  why  it  is  a  woman's  duty  to  live  with  a 
man  who  abuses  or  ignores  her  ?  why  it  is  a 
man's  duty  to  remain  under  the  same  roof  with  a 
woman  he  abhors  ?  "Who  says  you  shall  lie  pros- 
trate, and  allow  this  man  to  tread  upon  every 
sentiment  of  right,  every  noble  inspiration  and 
impulse?  Who  says  you  shall  take  without  a 
murmur  every  description  of  abuse  and  con- 
tumely ?  Who  says  you  shall  submit  to  his  fiend- 
ish caresses,  and  bear  his  children?  Who  says 
you  can  be  knocked  down  and  dragged  out,  your 
little  ones  taught  every  imaginable  wickedness? 
Who  says  convict  your  husband  or  wife  of  adul- 
tery, no  matter  how  it  is  accomplished ;  employ 
a  friend  or  detective  to  lead  them  into  the 
haunts  of  vice,  or  inveigle  them  into  suspicious 
positions,  we  will  wink  at  the  modus  operandi, 
but  we  have  no  desire  and  no  power  to  separate 


UP  BROADWAY.  173 

what  God  has  joined  together  for  any  of  the 
above  minor  causes  ?  I  will  tell  you :  The  laws 
of  the  State  of  New  York. 

Do  you  still  ask  why  Eleanor  Ejrk  wrote  "  Up 
Broadway"?  Once  more:  To  give  men  and 
women  courage  ;  to  show  them,  by  the  recital  of 
a  true  story,  that  love  is  mighty,  love  is  omnipo- 
tent ;  and  to  do  away,  as  far  as  possible,  with  the 
old-established  idea  that  marriage,  by  priest  or 
minister,  is  a  God-ordained  rite.  In  the  "  Sequel " 
she  hopes  to  convince  a  few,  at  least,  that  one 
kind  of  suicide  is  as  wicked  as  another,  and  that 
no  human  being  has  a  right  to  throw  away  or 
tread  upon  his  or  her  happiness,  thereby  making 
miserable  and  shortening  the  lives  which  God 
has  given.  The  number  of  women  who  have 
gone  down  to  their  graves  broken-hearted  is  fear- 
ful to  contemplate;  and  men  have  been  found 
foolish  enough  to  stay  and  be  made  miserable  by 
heartless  and  wicked  partners.  Still,  men  are 
not  fettered  by  the  same  laws  which  bind 
women.  A  man,  failing  to  find  peace  and  com- 
fort at  home,  can  spend  his  leisure  hours  at 
club,  lodge,  or  with  the  woman  or  women  whose 


SEQUEL   TO 

society  he  prefers  to  his  legally-made  wife.  The 
world  knows  of  this,  winks  at  it,  believes  in  it, 
and  pities  the  poor  fellow  who  is  so  terribly  hen- 
pecked ;  and  he  is  received  with  open  arms  in 
any  society  he  chooses  to  enter.  Xow  let  us 
reverse  this.  What  if  the  wife,  disappointed  and 
uncomfortable,  attempts  to  solace  herself  with 
others — what  then?  Why,  she  is  an  outcast  and 
a  reprobate  at  once,  and  anathemas  both  loud 
and  deep  are  hurled  at  the  suffering  woman. 
For  my  own  part,  I  wage  no  war  against  this 
treatment  of  so-called  wives  by  Mrs.  Grundy. 
On  the  contrary,  I  am  glad  of  it,  and  consider  it 
eminently  healthy,  but  fail  to  understand  why 
husbands  are  not  subjected  to  the  same  social 
treatment.  While  the  relations  of  husband  and 
wife  are  sustained  by  the  parties  bound,  neither 
party  has  the  least  moral  right  to  seek  solace  and 
entertainment  in  the  society  of  the  opposite  sex. 
Both  honor  and  common  decency  forbid  it.  It 
is  only  when  such  relations  have  entirely  ceased 
— when  the  husband  and  wife,  after  careful 
and  conscientious  effort,  discover  that  harmony  is 
a  condition  unattainable,  having  previously  given 


UP  BROADWAY.  175 

fair  warning  of  his  or  her  determination  to  quit 
forever,  that  the  question  of  happiness  from 
another  quarter  should  be  considered  for  a 
moment.  Then  comes  the  God-given  right  to 
seek  comfort,  if  it  is  not  already  within  reach. 
Do  not  misunderstand  or  misconstrue,  I  pray.  I 
only  wish  to  convey  the  idea  that  it  is  the  duty  of 
every  human  being  to  be  happy,  when  this 
happiness  does  not  conflict  with  or  mar  the  com- 
fort of  another.  The  man  who  lives  in  husband- 
ly relations  with  the  wife  the  law  has  given  him, 
must  be  entirely  devoid  of  every  manly  attribute 
when  he  enters  into  such  relations  with  another. 
No  man  can  be  true  to  two  women,  no  woman  to 
two  men.  This  is  entirely  out  of  nature,  and 
those  who  thus  deliberately  set  aside  morality, 
and  decency  deserve  all  the  ignominy  such 
behavior  is  sure  to  entail,  and  all  the  contumely 
the  world  can  pile  upon  them. 

"  I  have  children :  what  shall  I  do  ?  said  a 
legally-made  wife  to  me  the  other  day. 

"  Do  you  love  the  father  of  those  children  ? "  I 
inquired. 

"Love  him?    No!"  she  replied.    Neither  does 


176  SEQUEL   TO 

he  love  me.  Sometimes  there  are  whole  weeks 
that  we  do  not  speak  together  even ;  then  again 
he  will  be  quite  pleasant  for  a  day  or  two.  He 
is  not  only  unkind  to  me,  but  I  know  he  loves 
another.  Until  I  discovered  this,  no  woman 
ever  tried  more  faithfully  than  I  to  please 
a  husband ;  but  it  was  no  use.  I  am  a  good 
housekeeper  and  a  good  mother;  but  I  have  no 
way  to  earn  my  living.  I  don't  know  how  to  do 
anything  except  to  take  care  of  my  family. 
What  is  there  in  the  world^for  me?" 

Such  as  these  are  hard  cases,  but  there  can  be 
but  one  answer:  "Take  your  children,  if  you 
can  ^et  them,  and  march  out  into  the  world — 
anywhere.  ^*lace  the  little  ones  in  the  care  of 
friends,  or  in  an  asylum,  if  their  father  will  not 
contribute  to  their  support,  and  then  go  to  work 
at  something.  Better  be  a  cook,  waitress,  scul- 
lion even,  than  an  adulteress,  than  the  unwilling 
victim  of  a  man's  lust,  whose  love  you  know  is 
given  to  an  another." 

"  But  if  I  remain,  my  children  can  be  taken 
care  of,  educated,  and  brought  to  fill  positions  of 
which  I  may  be  proud." 


UP  BROADWAY.  177 

"True,  but  do  you  realize  that  by  remaining 
you  will  probably  bring  more  illegitimate  chil- 
dren into  the  world?  for  as  sure  as  truth  is  supe- 
rior to  falsehood,  virtue  to  immorality,  love  to 
lust,  every  child  who  is  not  an  offspring  of  love  is 
bastard."  Look  about  among  your  friends,  oh  ye 
of  little  faith,  oh  ye  who  have  been  fettered  with 
false  ideas  and  ridiculous  quibbles  in  reference 
to  love  and  duty.  Count  those  among  your 
friends  whom  you  believe  to  be  honest  in  their 
relations  with  each  other,  see  if  you  do  not  find 
those  whom  even  you,  bound  as  you  are  by  the 
world's  conventionalisms,  believe  would  be  better 
off  apart !  No  woman  owes  anything  to  a  man 
who  is  unkind  or  unloving ;  no  man  to  a  woman 
for  whom  he  finds  he  has  no  affection  or  sym- 
pathy—  that  is,  so  far  as  the  intimate  relations 
of  husband  and  wife  are  concerned.  If  he  have 
sufficient  nobility  to  wish  to  provide  for  the 
future  of  his  legal  partner  until  she  shall  have 
found  a  wray  to  support  herself  or  be  taken  care 
of  by  another,  all  right,  if  she  feels  like  accepting 
such  assistance.  As  the  woman  has  most  to  lose 
by  such  separation,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view, 


178  SEQUEL   TO 

it  seems  to  me  simply  foolish  for  her  to  refuse 
pecuniary  aid  when  offered,  as  many  women 
have,  to  my  certain  knowledge.  There  are  cases 
of  simple  uncongeniality,  where  the  parties  impli- 
cated are  too  high  toned  and  well  bred  to  quar- 
rel, and  where  nothing  can  be  brought  against 
either  save  a  non-conformity  of  taste  and  affec- 
tion. The  same  rule  applies  to  this  as  to  others. 
The  act  of  conjugality  without  true  conjugal  love 
to  inspire  it  is  the  meanest,  the  most  despicable 
act  to  conceive  of.  It  is  a  direct  sin  against  God, 
a  violation  of  His  expressed  commands.  Thank 
Heaven !  men  and  women  are  fast  waking  up  to 
these  truths ;  and  the  day  that  prostitution  in  so- 
called  married  life  is  abandoned,  that  day  will 
show  fewer  brazen  females  on  our  streets  and 
fewer  adulterers.  This  woman  marries  for  a 
home  and  a  maintenance ;  this  man  because  the 
woman  is  beautiful,  accomplished,  and  sought 
after  by  others ;  or  she  is  rich,  and  of  aristocratic 
parents.  Everything  under  the  sun  is  brought 
into  matrimony  except  the  very  question  which 
legitimately  belongs  there,  the  question  of  fit- 
ness, adaptability,  soul-fitness  and  sympathy,  —  in 


UP  BROADWAY.  179 

other  words,  love.  Many  are  linked  by  the  law 
of  whom  nothing  detrimental  can  be  said.  They 
are  honest,  conscientious  persons,  members  of  the 
same  church,  perhaps,  and  yet  they  do  not  agree. 
They  irritate  and  annoy  each  other,  and  two 
lives  are  made  more  miserable  than  words  can 
describe.  Neither  can  understand  the  reasons 
for  such  disagreement,  because  both  are  perfectly 
aware  of  each  other's  good  qualities.  Now,  this 
is  easily  explained.  There  are,  we  know,  chemi- 
cal properties  which  no  amount  of  coaxing  will 
cause  to  unite.  Oil  and  water,  both  extremely 
useful  ingredients,  will  not  mix,  though  one 
should  stir  forever.  So  some  persons,  pure  and 
unexceptional  in  character,  will  not  blend  for 
similar  reasons ;  and  it  is  the  height  of  folly  to 
break  one's  heart  in  the  vain  attempt  to  bring  into 
congenial  relations  souls  which  were  never  in- 
tended to  mate.  The  only  argument  which  pre- 
sent conservatives  bring  upon  this  matter,  is, 
"  How  is  a  man  or  woman  going  to  know  when 
he  or  she  has  found  the  mate?  Many  marry,  not 
only  believing  that  they  love,  but  that  the  object 
of  their  love  is  endowed  with  every  imaginable 


180  SEQUEL   TO 

virtue.  After  a  short  married  experience  they 
discover  their  mistake.  What  then?  Shall  they 
leave  these  partners  and  try  it  again?  If  so, 
what  guarantee  can  you  give  that  another  mis- 
take shall  not  be  made  ? "  The  answer  to  this, 
it  seems  to  us,  must  be  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  an  absolute  guarantee  possible. in  any  human 
affairs.  To  do  the  best  one  can  is  all  that  is 
required  of  poor  humanity.  That  a  man  and 
woman  stand  before  a  priest,  and  vow  to  love, 
honor,  and  cherish  each  other  till  death,  is  cer- 
tainly no  guarantee  that  they  will  do  so.  And 
when  this  man  and  woman  find,  after  mutual  and 
conscientious  effort,  that  they  are  absolutely 
unable  to  keep  that  vow;  that,  instead  of  attract- 
ing, they  repel  each  other  more  and  more  Jhe 
longer  they  live  together,  it  is  difficult  for  any 
reasonable  person  to  understand  why  they  should 
remain  in  bondage.  Then  as  to  the  forming  of 
a  second  tie.  The  guarantee  against  a  second 
mistake  must  lie  with  the  individuals  themselves. 
In  proportion  as  they  have  availed  themselves  of 
the  benefits  of  experience ;  in  proportion  as  they 
are  pure,  and  of  matured  and  cultivated  judg- 


UP  BROADWAY.  181 

ment ;  in  proportion  as  they  make  conjugal  love 
a  part  of  their  religion,  and  enter  into  it  purely 
and  unselfishly,  they  will  be  guaranteed  against 
all  failure  in  love  relations.  The  great  fact  that 
very  few  separations  take  place  in  the  case  of 
those  who  have  married  from  pure,  unbiased 
choice  is  the  most  powerful  of  all  arguments. 
Most  marriages  are,  to  more  or  less  extent,  mar- 
riages de  convenance.  Ambition  and  necessity 
rule  women  in  their  choice  of  husbands  far  more 
than  love.  All  the  business  of  this  life  is  ex- 
perimental. Nothing  is  absolutely  guaranteed; 
everything  must  be  tried  for ;  and  all  protestant- 
ism is  but  a  slipping  off  of  the  guaranteed  noose. 
Do  you  still  ask  why  Eleanor  Kirk  wrote  "  Up 
Broadway  ?  "  First,  because  the  story  was  true, 
and  she  considered  it  right  to  do  so,  and  felt  that 
hosts  of  struggling  women  would  be  awakened 
to  a  sense  of  their  terrible  positions,  and  by  the 
simple  narrative  given  strength  to  conquer.  The 
courage  to  publish  it  must  have  come  from  above, 
for  that  it  required  a  few  grains  of  this  ex- 
tremely useful  quality  she  has  no  wish  to  deny. 
Had  she  not  been  on  the  most  intimate  terms 


182  SEQUEL  TO 

with  a  woman  who  had  suffered  in  her  own  per- 
son every  description  of  abuse  and  indignity 
possible  to  conceive  of,  she  would  not  probably 
have  been  so  deeply  interested  in  the  woes  of 
ethers.  "A  fellow  feeling  makes  us  wondrous 
kind."  Not  that  there  was  any  similarity  in  the 
species  of  suffering,  not  the  slightest ;  but  con- 
tact with  misery  had  aroused  her  most  loving 
sympathies,  and,  consequently,  made  her  more 
willing  to  be  of  service  to  the  down-trodden. 

O 

Let  Eleanor  tell  you  about  this  woman,  and  then 
see  if  you  wonder  that  she  at  last  gained  strength 
to  cry  out  against  all  kinds  of  intolerance. 

Some  years  ago  there  lived  in  a  small  country 
town  a  young  woman  whose  education,  moral 
and  intellectual,  had  been  conducted  in  the  most 
conscientious  and  loving  manner.  The  utmost 
liberality  was  shown  by  her  parents  on  all  sub- 
jects—  religion,  politics,  and  general  ethics; 
but  on  the  question  of  marriage  and  its  duties 
no  Roman  Catholic  bigot  could  have  been  more 
unreasonable  and  uncharitable  than  was  her 
father;  and  in  this  atmosphere  she  grew  to  be 
a  woman,  and  married.  "  As  you  make  your 


UP  BROADWAY.  183 

bed,  so  must  you  lie "  had  been  so  carefully 
instilled  into  the  mind  of  our  friend  that  she 
thoroughly  realized  this  union  was  for  life.  As 
it  happened,  the  man  who  had  selected  her  for 
his  partner  was  a  refined,  earnest  gentleman,  and 
no  cloud  arose  to  dim  the  light  of  their  pleasant 
intercourse.  As  it  happened,  I  say,  for  she  was 
very  young,  a  mere  child,  and  her  husband  was 
some  twelve  years  her  senior.  What  did  this 
unsophisticated  girl  understand  of  the  life  she 
was  entering  upon?  Nothing,  of  course.  Mar- 
riage was  invested  with  a  sort  of  couleur-de-rose 
haze,  and,  from  the  manner  of  her  educatio^ 
seemed  to  her  the  end  and  aim  of  every  woman's 
ambition.  Did  she  love  him  \  do  you  ask.  She 
respected  him,  believed  in  him ;  but  the  depths 
of  her  heart  had  not  been  stirred.  This  affec- 
tionate regard  could  easily  pass  for  the  genuine 
article,  for  the  young  wife  was  of  an  impulsive, 
demonstrative  disposition,  and  had  not  attained 
to  full  womanhood — that  is,  she  had  not  come 
to  understand  the  depth  and  richness  of  her  own 
nature.  After  a  short  and  painful  experience, — 
for  her  husband  sickened  and  died, —  our  friend 


184:  SEQUEL   TO 

was  left  a  widow  with  two  little  ones.  Then  a 
father's  loving  arms  were  outstretched,  and  under 
the  parental  roof  she  and  her  little  ones  were 
welcomed  and  cared  for  until  the  "  Grim  Mon- 
ster" again  presented  himself  and  removed  her 
sole  remaining  relative,  leaving  the  daughter 
with  her  two  babies  and  a  sister  only  one  year 
older  than  her  oldest  child  as  heritage.  Then 
came  the  tug  of  war.  How  could  she  best  sup- 
port herself  and  the  children  entrusted  to  her 
care  ?  She  was  a  good  scholar,  competent  to 
teach  music  or  belles-lettres,  and  without  a  parti- 
cle of  false  pride  concerning  labor.  So  much 
grevious  trouble  had  shattered  the  poor  child^s 
health,  and,  mentally  as  well  as  physically  disa- 
bled, she  cast  about  her  for  the  means  of  support. 
A  few  music-scholars  were  found.  This,  with 
copying  music  for  a  distinguished  composer, 
brought  her,  with  care  and  economy,  sufficient 
for  the  wants  of  her  little  family.  God  only 
knows  the  anguish  of  that  heart.  As  has  already 
been  said,  her  parents  were  extremely  liberal  on 
every  subject  but  that  of  marriage.  She  was 
the  joy  of  her  father's  heart,  the  light  of  his 


UP  BRODWAT.  185 

eyes,  and  the  atmosphere  of  her  home  had 
always  been  redolent  with  that  perfect  harmony 
which  can  only  spring  from  the  purest  and  most 
unselfish  affection.  What  wonder  that  the  world 
seemed  to  her  a  wilderness  ?  What  wonder  that 
her  nights  were  sleepless,  and  that  as  she  clasped 
her  little  sister  to  her  heart,  the  last  fruit  of  her 
parents'  glorious  affection,  and  surveyed  her  own 
two  lusty  boys,  she  half -wished  that  her  parents 
could  have  taken  them  all  along  with  them  to 
the  land  where,  we  have  been  taught  to  believe, 
there  is  no  anxiety  about  what  we  shall  eat  or 
wherewithal  we  shall  be  clothed !  How  could 
she,  her  whole  time  devoted  to  the  bread-and-but- 
ter question,  find  time  to  train  and  educate  the 
precious  souls  thus  entrusted  to  her  care !  For 
a  while  she  worked  nobly,  then  came  temptation 
in  the  form  of  a  man. 

"  I  love  you,"  he  said.  "  I  will  care  for 
your  little  ones.  My  business  position  is  good. 
I  can  give  you  just  such  a  home  as  you  deserve 
to  be  mistress  of.  You  shall  be  my  wife, 
and  no  care  that  love  can  ward  off  shall 
come  to  you  or  yours." 


186  SEQUEL   TO 

Two  or  three  months  previous  to  this  offer 
our  friend  had  been  steadily  and  surely  fail- 
ing in  health.  A  physician  was  consulted, 
who  said, — 

"I  would  not  give  three  cents  for  your 
life  if  you  remain  here  through  the  coming 
winter.  Change  of  air,  change  of  scene,  and 
entire  freedom  from  care,  will  probably  res- 
tore you.  Medicine  is  of  no  earthly  use." 

Another  long,  wistful  look  at  the  poor  lit- 
tle ones.  She  had  just  commenced  to  under- 
stand the  needs  of  her  own  soul.  She  realized 
that  it  was  in  her  power  to  make  some  one 
exceedingly  happy,  and  that  the  right  kind 
of  companionship  must  develop  in  her  quali- 
ties which,  brought  to  fruition,  would  make 
this  world  a  very  heaven.  Could  this  man 
satisfy  the  needs  of  her  soul?  Could  he  make 
this  wilderness  of  hers  bud  and  blossom  as 
the  rose  ?  JSTo !  That  she  saw  at  a  glance. 
Could  she  respect  him?  She  thought  she 
could.  Could  she  make  him  a  true,  earnest 
wife  ?  Most  certainly.  Our  friend  had  been 
too  carefully  drilled  in  the  moral  code  to 


UP  BROADWAY.  187 

ever  be  false  in  action  or  thought,  even,  to 
the  man  she  had  promised  to  obey.  That 
part  of  her  education  was  perfect,  for  which 
early  training  she  devoutly  thanks  God  and 
her  parents;  but  for  that  other  twin-sister 
doctrine,  which  made  it  imperative  for  her 
to  continue  to  live  with  a  man  who  outraged 
every  noble  sentiment  of  her  soul,  she  feels 
under  no  obligations.  And  here,  let  me  say 
a  word  to  parents.  Educate  your  daughters 
carefully.  Provide  them  with  some  trade  or 
profession  by  which  they  can  earn  their  own 
living'  if  circumstances  render  it  necessary. 
Advise  them  in  regard  to  their  choice  of 
husbands,  and  then  if  they  marry,  charge  them 
by  all  that  is  sacred  in  soul  and  body  to 
never  allow  those  whom  the  law  calls  master 
to  impose  upon  or  in  any  way  abuse.  Let 
them  feel  that  your  arms  are  always  ready 
to  clasp  them,  your  loving  sympathy  awaiting 
them,  and  make  them  comprehend  that  a 
woman  can  be  guilty  of  no  greater  sin  than 
bringing  children  into  the  world  whose  father 
she  had  been  made  to  loathe  and  despise. 


188  SEQUEL   TO 

Higher  light  and  intelligence  came  to  the 
subject  of  our  story  through  suffering  of  the 
most  terrible  description,  and  she  cannot  fail 
to  see  that  a  little  judicious  training  in  refer- 
ence to  the  duty  all  of  God's  creatures  owe 
themselves,  as  well  as  others,  would  have  saved 
her  years  of  misery. 

Well,  what  should  the  woman  do  —  how 
choose  1  Here  was  sickness,  and  probably  — 
after  a  few  months'  longer  wrestle  with  pov- 
erty—  death.  There  was  a  comfortable  home, 
education  and  plenty  for  her  little  ones,  health 
and  strength  for  herself. 

The  man,  she  reasoned,  must  love  her,  or 
he  would  never  wish  to  marry  her  with  these 
incumbrances.  Perhaps,  in  time,  she  might 
learn  to  love  him.  This  is  just  the  place 
where  thousands  of  women  totter  and  fall, 
and  the  greatest  of  all  reasons  for  the  wretch- 
edness so  many  bound  by  the  law  experience. 

Instruct  your  daughters,  also,  in  reference 
to  love.  Be  careful  to  make  them  understand 
the  difference  between  friendship  and  love. 
Tell  them  that  a  woman  may  be  pleased  with 


UP  BROADWAY  189 

the  society  of  a  man,  be  really  very  happy 
in  his  company,  prefer  it  to  others  of  the 
opposite  sex,  and  yet  be  not  in  love  with 
him.  Drill  them  so  carefully  in  the  different 
sensations  experienced  by  all  women  that  they 
will  be  quick  to  analyze  and  explain.  Cause 
them,  if  possible,  to  understand  that  true  con- 
jugal love  springs  from  a  thorough  blending 
of  soul ;  that  it  is  self-sacrificing,  and  that  the 
questions  of  maintenance,  of  dollars  and  cents, 
of  brown-stone  fronts  and  dashing  turnouts, 
never  enter  into  it  ;  that  unless  they  feel 
willing  to  share  discomfort,  privation,  ay,  death 
even,  that  they  know  nothing  of  the  love  which 
should  possess  the  soul  of  a  wife. 

Our  friend  had  no  time  to  lose.  She  must 
choose  quickly;  so,  without  the  least  idea  that 
she  was  sinning  against  her  own  soul  and  that 
of  another,  one  evening,  after  a  peculiarly  dis- 
tressing day,  she  placed  her  hand  in  her  suitor's 
and  said,  "  Your  home  shall  be  my  home ; " 
and  a  few  weeks  after  found  her  his  wife. 
They  took  a  house  in  a  neighboring  city,  and 
here  commenced  the  trouble  of  her  life.  She 


190  SEQUEL   TO 

soon  found  that  death  was  no  disaster.  Her 
darlings  had  died,  loving  and  blessing  her; 
their  last  words  had  been  heavenly  benedic- 
tions ;  their  kisses  and  blessings  had  mingled 
with  her  tears,  and  had  taken  away  half  the 
sting  of  parting.  How  many  times  in  her  life 
had  she  heard  those  familiar  with  grief  exclaim, 
"  Ah !  living  trouble  is  worse  than  death ! " 
But  she  had  utterly  failed  to  understand  its  full 
significance.  Now  it  came  over  her  like  a  great 
flood,  she  bowed  her  head,  saying,  "  "Why  did 
I  murmur  when  God  removed  my  dear  ones  ? 
How  much  better  would  it  have  been  for  my 
children  had  I  kept  steadily  on  and  died  even, 
than  to  have  placed  them  under  the  influence 
and  in  the  power  of  this  bad  man."  She  was 
not  a  week  married  before  she  discovered  that 
her  husband's  intention  was  to  keep  constantly 
under  the  effect  of  liquor;  that  when  the 
fumes  wore  off,  or  were  slept,  off,  he  was  morose, 
obstinate,  and  fearfully  profane,  until  he  was 
again  replenished.  She  had  made  a  grand  mis- 
take. The  man  who  called  her  wife  Lad  grossly 
deceived  and  imposed  upon  her.  What  could 


UP  BROADWAY.  191 

she  do  about  it?  Evidently  nothing.  Early 
training  forbade  it.  "As  yon  make  your  bed, 
so  shall  you  lie,"  was  all  the  reply  she  received, 
when  she  questioned  her  own  soul  in  reference 
to  her  terrible  position.  This  irrational  saying 
has  been  flung  quite  long  enough  at  those  who 
suffer  from  an  unhappy  union,  and  it  is  time 
that  sensible  persons  discovered  that  the  whole 
argument  upon  which  is  based — the  idea  that 
because  one  is  decoyed  into  an  unpleasant 
position,  they  shall  remain  and  suffer  all  the 
misery  such  position  entails — is  just  as  flimsy  and 
illogical  as  this :  "  As  you  make  your  bed,  so 
shall  you  lie!"  Kidiculous!  What  woman 
is  there  so  weak  or  so  foolish  who  would  not, 
finding  she  had  failed  to  spread  her  couch 
nicely,  arise  and  make  it  over  again  ?  Yes,  and 
keep  fixing  it  until  it  does  suit  her!  A  man 
finds  himself  in  the  presence  of  a  fiend  whom 
he  knows  has  murder  in  his  soul.  Shall  he  have 
more  regard  for  the  madman's  bloodthirsty 
desire  than  he  has  for  his  own  life  ?  Does  duty 
demand  that  he  furnish  him  with  a  pistol  to 
blow  his  brains  out?  A  man  rents  a  house: 


192  SEQUEL  TO 

it  is  represented  perfect  in  every  respect.  He 
lives  in  it  a  while  and  finds  that  the  chimneys 
are  out  of  order,  the  flues  defective,  the  roof 
leaky,  and  the  domicile  in  every  respect  un- 
tenantable. The  landlord  obstinately  refuses 
to  make  the  premises  habitable.  What  does  he 
do  about  it  ?  Hemain,  and  have  his  eyes  smoked 
out,  and  his  children's  health  destroyed?  A 
fool  might  fear  the  consequences  of  removal, 
but  a  sensible  man  vacates  and  tries  another. 
Now,  marriage  is  no  more  binding  as  a  civil 
contract  than  is  this  contract  between  landlord 
and  tenant.  It  is  plain  to  those  who  will  open 
their  eyes  that  no  person  has  the  least  right  to 
remain  in  a  position  of  fear  or  perpetual  dis- 
comfort. 

Our  friend  discovered  this  when  it  was  too 
late  to  avert  the  awful  consequences. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

YEAR  passed;   a    child    was    born  — 
another  boy.     Her  two  oldest  childen 
were  just  the    right    age   to   carefully 
note  the  behavior  of  their  step-father   and  be 
influenced  by  his  example.     She  kept  them  as 
much   out  of    the   brute's  sight   as    she  could, 
and  endeavored  by  patience  and   diligent  care 
to   counteract    any  influence  he    might    exert. 
A  thankless  task,  for  a  man  constantly  excited 
by  alcoholic  stimulants  is  a  despot  of  the  most 
overbearing    description.      Expostulations    were 
entirely  unavailing,  and  after  the  first  year  of 
her  married  life  she  never  attempted  to  advise 
in  reference  to  behavior,  business,  or   the  man- 
agement of  children.     Such   conversations   had 
invariably  ended  with  a  disturbance,  from  the 
effect  of  which  it  was  impossible  to  recover. 
Now,  look:    In  the  commencement  she  did 
13  (193) 


194  SEQUEL   TO 

not  love  him;  had  persuaded  herself  that  she 
respected  him,  and  that  this  esteem  would  form 
a  foundation  upon  which  could  be  built  suffi- 
cient affection  to  last  through  her  earthly  pil- 
grimage. Mistaken  —  wof  ully  mistaken !  Every 
woman  who  marries  with  such  feelings  and 
for  such  reasons  will  sooner  or  later  awaken  to 
the  sense  of  her  degradation.  There  is  no  way 
of  evading  it.  Through  fault-finding,  profanity, 
and  every  imaginable  abuse,  this  woman  plod- 
ded along,  with  not  a  ray  of  light  to  illumine 
her  rugged  pathway.  She  was  too  proud  to 
impart  the  terrible  particulars  of  her  every- 
day life,  and  consequently  suffered  alone.  Did 
they  have  visitors,  there  was  nothing  too  much 
that  this  most  unnatural  husband  and  father 
could  do  to  demonstrate  his  affection  for  his 
family ;  but  as  soon  as  the  door  closed  upon 
their  guests  he  would  immediately  relapse  into 
his  old  moods  and  probably  commit  some  fla- 
grant act  of  cruelty  to  pay  for  this  exhibition 
of  tenderness  and  good  nature.  So  the  years 
passed  on.  Another  little  one  was  born.  Dis- 
sipation had  now  come  to  be  felt  in  business, 


UP  BROADWAY.  195 

and,  after  repeated  efforts  to  reclaim  this 
strangely  besotted  man,  he  was  finally  dismissed 
from  the  firm,  and  found  himself  without  the 
means  of  earning  a  dollar.  From  bad  to  worse 
he  then  went.  "Words  are  powerless  to  describe 
his  utter  fiendishness,  his  lack  of  every  manly 
attribute.  Night  after  night  the  suffering  wife 
watched  for  his  returning  footsteps, —  sometimes 
until  almost  daybreak,  —  fearing  to  go  to  bed 
lest  he  might  find  her  asleep  and  murder  her. 
When  he  found  that  nothing  he  could  do  or 
say  to  her  would  provoke  a  reply,  he  would 
frighten  her  about  the  children.  More  than 
once  he  has  torn  the  sleeping  infant  from  its 
warm  rest  in  its  loving  mother's  arms,  placed  it 
on  the  marble  mantel,  and  there,  for  a  time 
which  seemed  an  eternity  to  the  distressed 
mother,  make  it  remain,  struggling  and  shriek- 
ing. If  she  attempted  to  go  to  the  child's 
rescue,  as  she  had  on  several  occasions,  the  brute 
would  immediately  knock  her  down.  After  a 
wm'le  baby  would  be  thrown  upon  the  bed, 
with  — 


196  SEQLEL  TO 

"  Take  your  brat ;  and  I'll  give  him  just  two 
minutes  to  stop  his howling  I " 

"A  fool  to  remain  and  endure  such  treat- 
ment," do  you  say  ?  Give  us  your  hand :  those 
are  my  sentiments. 

"  Better  her  children  should  starve." ' 

So  1  say.  But  do  you  not  see  that  she  was 
simply  a  victim  to  the  idea  that  a  legal  mar- 
riage is  a  God-instituted  ordinance,  instead  of 
the  civil  contract  it  most  certainly  is  ?  "  Whom 
God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asun- 
der," she  applied,  like  many  others,  to  all  those 
who  stand  up  before  priest  or  minister  and  take 
upon  themselves  matrimonial  vows,  whether  true 
to  these  vows  or  not. 

The  children  were  not  allowed  to  attend 
church  or  Sabbath-schools.  Did  he  find  one 
of  them  reading,  the  book  was  immediately 
burned.  The  "  Sunday  Mercury"  and  "Herald " 
his  wife  was  permitted  to  peruse ;  but  no  maga- 
zine, no  library  book,  nothing  of  a  standard 
character  was  allowed  in  the  house.  In  this 
cruel  manner,  starved  intellectually  and  socially, . 
t  this  misguided  woman  performed  what  she  con- 


UP  BROADWAY.  197 

sidered  to  be  her  duty.  Duty?  Good  heavens! 
what  a  misnomer!  In  the  name  of  all  that  is 
good,  sensible  and  reasonable,  what  did  she  owe 
this  brute  ?  And  what  did  she  not  owe  herself 
and  children? 

"Did  she  wake  up  at  last?" 

Yes ;  have  a  little  patience,  and  I  will  give 
you  full  particulars,  because  I  lived  with  that 
woman.  Another  child  was  born ;  this  time  a 
dear  little  girl.  The  pangs  of  poverty  were  now 
keenly  felt.  There  had  been  no  steady  occupa- 
tion since  the  first  grand  smash-up.  The  babe 
was  born  in  the  depth  of  winter.  There  was 
not  a  particle  of  wood  or  coal  in  the  house,  and 
very  little  to  eat.  What  could  be  done  ?  She 
was  alone  with  her  children  —  no  one  to  assist, 
or  be  of  the  least  service.  She  finally  sent  for  a 
neighbor,  and  made  a  clean  breast  of  her  terribly 
poverty-stricken  condition.  Material  for  fire  was 
forthwith  produced,  things  made  comfortable,  a 
physician  sent  for,  and  at  ten  o'clock  the  little 
one  was  ushered  into  the  world.  A  few  mo- 
ments previous  to  its  birth  the  father  came  in 
cursing,  and,  noting  the  state  of  affairs,  walked 


198  SEQUEL  TO 

deliberately  out  and  was  not  heard  from  until 
hours  after.  The  convalescence  from  this  illness 
was  something  remarkable.  Without  a  nurse, 
dependent  upon  the  kindness  of  neighbors,  she 
gained  steadily  and  surely,  and  in  a  month's  time 
was  able  to  take  her  place  in  the  family.  With- 
out understanding  the  reason  for  such  a  change 
of  sentiment,  our  friend  had  been  completely 
revolutionized.  Sometimes  I  have  whispered  to- 
ner that  perhaps  the  difference  in  gender  accom- 
plished this  change  of  feeling ;  but  she  invaria- 
bly shrugs  her  shoulders  at  the  suggestion.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  the  birth  of  the  little  girl  was  the 
commencement  of  a  new  order  of  things.  She 
no  longer  cringed  and  trembled  at  her  husband's 
approach.  He  saw  the  difference,  remarked  upon 
it,  and  was  thoroughly  mystified.  Again  she  ob- 
tained a  few  music-scholars,  and  endeavored  to 
assist  in  maintaining  the  family.  Still  the  de- 
mon alcohol  reigned  supreme.  Never  apparently 
intoxicated  enough  to  stagger,  or  appear  like 
most  men  when  under  the  influence  of  liquor, 
he  was  nevertheless  thoroughly  drunk  from  one 
week's  end  to  another.  Valuables  were  sold  to 


UP  BROADWAY.  199 

satisfy  this  fiendish  appetite,  and  at  last  came 
the  grand  finale.  One  morning,  after  having 
destroyed  a  set  of  shirts  she  had  just  finished, 
on  account  of  some  imagined  misfit  about  the 
neck,  —  after  tearing  into  shreds  the  little  one's 
under-garments,  locking  the  door  and  removing 
the  key  the  while,  so  that  she  should  be  com- 
pelled to  remain  and  witness  the  destruction,  — 
finding  that  failed  to  extort  a  word  of  disappro- 
bation, or  an  ill-natured  remark,  he  seized  the 
sleeping  infant  from  its  crib  and  threatened  to 
dash  its  brains  out  against  the  mantel.  With 
the  strength  of  a  maniac  she  snatched  the  child 
from  its  heartless  parent,  and  defied  him ;  then, 
entirely  overcome  with  the  terrible  disgrace  of 
her  position,  fell  upon  her  knees  and  implored 
Divine  aid. 

"  Separate  us,  O  Father ! "  she  cried.  "  Ee- 
move  me  and  mine  from  the  influence  of  this 
bad  man !  Separate  us  by  death,  if  it  seemeth 
right  in  Thy  sight;  if  not,  place  distance  be- 
tween us,  and  help  me  in  my  newly  formed 
resolve  to  do  my  duty  by  myself  and  my  chil- 


200  SEQUEL   TO 

dren !  Guide  and  guard,  O  Father,  and  give  me 
strength  to  conquer  ! " 

"  Good  ! "  exclaimed  the  brute,  as  she 

arose  from  her  knees,  full  of  faith  that  her 
prayer  would  be  answered.  "  Do  you  feel  as 
bad  as  that  ? "  and  without  another  word  he  un- 
locked the  door  and  left  the  house.  There  was 
a  terrible  something  in  her  manner  which,  reck- 
less and  fallen  as  he  was,  checked  further  display 
of  brutality,  and  awed  him  into  a  cessation  of 
hostilities.  Nothing  but  utter  desperation  could 
have  driven  her  to  her  knees  in  his  presence,  for 
he  had  always  sneered  at  every  high-toned  ex- 
pression or  noble  sentiment.  She  had  never 
dared  to  speak  of  God  or  His  attributes,  as  the 
least  approach  to  religious  subjects  would  pro- 
voke the  most  fearful  language  possible  tp  con- 
ceive of. 

"  Your  prayer  is  answered,  Nell,"  said  he, 
coming  in  late  the  same  afternoon.  "  I  have 
to-day  had  an  agency  offered  me,  which  I  have 
concluded  to  accept.  "Will  you  help  me  get 
ready  ?  I  shall  leave  for  the  West  to-morrow 
afternoon." 


UP  BROADWAY.  201 

Never  did  woman  set  about  a  pleasanter 
task.  She  was  to  receive  a  sum  weekly  from 
her  husband's  employer  sufficient  for  the  com- 
fortable support  of  her  family.  Perhaps,  she 
argued,  when  separated  from  his  bacchanalian 
companions  he  may — understanding  by  bitter 
experience  how  difficult  it  is  for  a  man  to  ob- 
tain a  business  position  after  having  been  igno- 
ininiously  discharged  from  a  first-class  firm — go 
about  his  work  with  a  determination  to  succeed. 
Still  she  felt  that  her  position  was  a  very  preca- 
rious one,  and  decided  that  she  would  endeavor, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  few  friends,  to  obtain 
some  employment  by  which  she  might  earn  in* 
dependence  for  herself  and  darlings.  She  could 
not  afford  a  servant,  and  thus  the  whole  care  and 
drudgery  of  the  establishment  devolved  upon  her, 
weak  and  trembling  from  ill-treatment  and  over- 
exertion.  She  consulted  with  her  sister,  who, 
young  as  she  was,  had  graduated  from  a  public 
school  with  the  highest  honors  of  her  class  and  a 
scholarship.  For  this  the  child  had  labored  m- 
defatigably,  and  when  she  discovered  the  prize 
was  hers  her  joy  knew  no  bounds. 


202  SEQUEL  TO 

"It  is  mine,  sister!  It  is  mine!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Now  I  can  have  a  thorough  classical 
education.  All  you  will  have  to  do  will  be  to 
buy  my  books  and  make  me  "presentable." 

"  It  shall  be  accomplished  some  way,"  de- 
clared the  senior,  although  she  knew  it  would 
require  almost  superhuman  exertion  on  her  part. 
If  the  salary  continued  she  thought  it  would  be 
possible  to  carry  out  the  pet  plan,  and  also  to 
keep  her  two  oldest  boys  at  school,  and  person- 
ally superintend  their  education;  and  the  end 
she  knew  would  amply  compensate  for  all  the 
weariness  and  heart-ache  which  must  inevitably 
attend  a  life  entirely  devoted  to  the  physical  and 
intellectual  needs  of  others.  But  God  she  knew 
would  smile  on  such  efforts ;  and  with  a  heart 
full  of  gratitude  that  her  prayer  had  been 
answered,  and  the  man  whose  name  she  bore 
removed  from  herself  and  children,  went  bravely 
to  work,  Four  music-scholars  were  obtained,  the 
sum  derived  from  such  teaching  to  be  devoted 
to  educational  purposes.  The  girl-baby  —  ten 
months  old  —  was  drilled  to  take  very  good  care 
of  herself,  and  while  these  lessons  were  going  on 


UP  BROADWAY.  203 

sat  in  her  little  chair  close  by,  and  added  many 
a  delicious  tremulant  to  the  solfeggios  of 
her  pupils'  instruction-books ;  while  three-year- 
old  Josey  sat  in  state  on  the  sofa,  vaguely  under- 
standing that  mamma  was  engaged  in  something 
which  required  not  only  her  closest  attention,  but 
his  best  behavior.  So  the  days  wore  until  the  so- 
called  husband  and  father  had  been  gone  two 
weeks.  Then  came  a  crash  which  threatened  to 
completely  crush  both  strength  and  ambition. 
The  house  agent  called.  Our  friend  had  been 
given  to  understand  that  the  rent  for  that  month 
had  been  paid.  The  agent,  however,  represented 
it  otherwise,  and  having  had  the  most  disgraceful 
experience  in  reference  to  payments  of  this  kind, 
had  no  thought  qf  questioning  the  claim  of  the 
landlord.  For  some  reason,  which  Nellie  could 
not  for  her  life  understand,  he  chose  to  work 
himself  into  a  fury  exceedingly  unbecoming  to 
a  man  of  his  excessively  contemptible  appear^ 
ance ;  for  anger  is  too  dignified  a  passion  to  be 
indulged  in  by  a  man  without  soul,  .  He  coolly 
informed  her  that  he  knew  her  husband  did  not 
intend  to  pay  the  rent,  and  that  he  supposed  her 


204  SEQUEL   TO 

intentions  were  similar ;  that  she  undoubtedly 
had  money  in  her  possession,  and  had  better 
"fork  over."  The  first  statement  was  quite  as 
clear  to  her  as  to  the  intruder.  The  male  occu- 
pant of  the  premises  had  never  intended  to  settle 
any  bills  which  had  the  least  reference  to  the 
comfort  of  his  family.  The  other  taunts  were 
not  at  all  calculated  to  soothe  the  spirit  of  our 
rather  impetuous  friend.  She  gave  him  a  tem- 
perate explanation  of  the  disabilities  of  the  case, 
and  a  promise  that  he  should  be  partly  paid  the 
coming  week,  on  the  receipt  of  her  weekly  allow- 
ance. It  was  of  »no  avail.  Finding  that  he  still 
persisted  in  his  insulting  demeanor, —  threatening 
to  serve  a  writ  of  ejection  upon  her,  —  she  rose  to 
the  level  of  the  occasion,  and  informed  him  that 
possession  was  nine  points  of  the  law ;  that  while 
she  occupied  the  mansion  it  was  her  castle  ;  and 
that  if  his  own  instincts  did  not  serve  him  to  find 
the  door,  the  aid  of  a  policeman  would  be  in- 
voked. Whereupon  he  left,  but  soon  returned 
with  an  officer,  who  served  the  writ  upon  her 
without  mercy.  Here  was  a  situation  for  a  deli- 
cate woman,  with  a  baby  of  ten  months  old,  and 


UP  BROADWAY.  205 

four  other  children,  besides  her  young  sister,  to 
provide  for.  A  kind  neighbor  consenting  to  care 
for  the  babies  in  her  absence,  she  sallied  forth, 
strong  in  mother  love,  but  weak  in  courage, 
to  try  to  find  a  shelter  for  those  little  heads  so 
precious  to  her.  In  vain!  Rooms  there  were 
in  plenty,  but  not  for  women  with  little 
children  and  without  husbands  to  secure  the 
payment  of  the  rent.  Ay,  Nellie  was  dis- 
couraged, and  yet  her  dismay  did  not  prevent 
indignation.  "  Because  I  am  a  woman  is  every 
door  to  be  thus  shut  against  me?"  she  asked 
herself.  "Have  not  I  hands  to  labor?  Have  I 
not  a  willing  heart,  as  well  as  a  man  ?  and  can- 
not these  dolts  see  that  there  is  honest  purpose  in 
my  eyes,  and  intense  resolution  written  in  every 
line  of  my  face  ? "  Surely  any  one  who  had  the 
least  knowledge  of  physiognomy,  either  by  book- 
learning  or  by  natural  instinct,  could  not  have 
failed  to  see  that  there  was  a  spirit  in  the  woman 
that  the  delicate  and  frail  tenement  it  inhabited 
could  scarely  suffice  to  hold.  Such  a  one  would 
not  have  doubted  that  she  would  have  died 
rather  than  not  do  and  dare  anything  for  her 


206  SEQUEL   TO 

babes.  It  was  the  eagle  with  broken  wing,  in- 
deed, but  an  eagle  still,  intent  on  her  eyrie,  and 
never  to  be  content  until  her  eaglets'  mouths 
should  be  filled  and  the  nest  made  comfortable. 
Such  a  woman  can  never  stop  when  her  mater- 
nal duties  are  done.  Winnowing  the  void  air  in 
pursuit  of  food  and  shelter  had  likewise  opened 
her  eyes  to  new  views  of  life,  new  duties,  and 
new  objects  of  endeavor.  She  now  saw  how  her 
own  sex  was  enslaved.  Strange,  it  had  never 
come  home  to  her  before.  She  noted  how  com- 
pletely avenues  of  successful  labor  were  closed 
to  them ;  how  every  arrangement  of  society 
had  reference  to  their  imprisonment  in  some 
form  or  other.  Looking  at  her  own  arms, 
chafed  with  the  iron .  of  her  own  fetters,  her 
eyes  were  opened  to  see  the  same  scars  on 
millions  of  her  sisters.  The  great  question 
of  the  "rights  of  women"  assumed  gigantic 
proportions,  and  while  travelling  from  house 
to  house,  and  agent  to  agent,  her  whole  heart- 
aching,  soul-harrowing  experience  passed  in 
review  before  her.  Never  before  had  she  given 
the  subject  the  least  consideration.  True,  she 


VT  BfiOADWAY.  207 

had  heard  of  Miss  Anthony,  and  Mrs.  Stanton, 
and  a  few  others  who  were  laboring  for  what 
they  termed  the  emancipation  of  woman.  Old 
prejudices,  early  training,  a  lack  of  ability  to 
keep  up  with  the  times,  had,  strangely  enough, 
placed  the  workers  in  this  movement  in  anything 
but  a  favorable  light.  They  had  always  ap- 
peared to  her  like  bold,  if  not  immodest  women, 
and  the  very  idea  of  a  woman's  desiring  the 
ballot  was  quite  sufficient  to  condemn  her  in  the 
eyes  of  our  friend.  Now  she  plainly  saw  that 
simply  because  she  was  not  a  citizen,  or,  in  other 
words,  had  not  a  legal  right  to  live  and  labor 
like  her  brother,  she  was  denied  a  roof  to 
shelter  her  children.  While  waiting  at  the 
office  of  a  house  agent  for  the  clerk  to  make 
out  a  list  of  unoccupied  rooms,  a  man  stepped 
up  to  the  desk  and  inquired  for  apartments. 

"Here  you  are,"  said  the  clerk,  mentioning 
a  part  of  a  house  which  he  had  just  denied 
her  on  account  of  her  children.  Mortified  and 
annoyed  that,  simply  on  account  of  a  difference 
of  sex,  this  biped  by  her  side,  who  did  not  look 
as  if  he  possessed  sufficient  vim  to  take  care 


208  SEQUEL   TO 

of  himself,  could  have  just  what  he  desired, 
without  being  asked  a  single  question,  she  re- 
marked to  the  agent, — 

"But,  sir,  you  must  certainly  have  forgotten 
to  make  any  inquiries  in  reference  to  the  gen- 
tleman's family." 

"You  mean  children,  I  suppose,"  laughed 
the  agent.  "But  have  you  not  found  out  that 
a  man  looking  for  a  house  with  a  family  of 
children  is  a  very  different  affair  from  a 
woman  in  the  same  situation?  You  have 
stated  to  us  that  your  husband  is  away  from 
home,  and  have  not  said  a  word  about  security. 
This  man  I  know ;  he  has  a  trade,  and  I  shall 
have  no  difficulty  in  collecting  my  rent.  That's 
where  the  rub  comes,  my  dear  woman." 

"Why  hadn't  you  told  me  this  in  the  first 
place,"  she  indignantly  made  answer,  "instead 
of  trying  to  make  me  believe  my  children  were 
the  only  obstacles?" 

"  Oh ! "  replied  the  smooth-tongued  proprietor, 
"we  do  prefer  to  rent  these  rooms  to  a  man 
and  his  wife;  but  when  we  are  well  acquainted 
with  the  parties,  as  in  this  instance,  you  can 


UP  BROAD  WA  Y.  209 

see  yourself  that  it  makes  all  the  difference  in 
the  world." 

Yes,  indeed ;  she  plainly  saw  that  there  was 
all  the  difference  in  the  world  between  men 
and  women,  in  pursuit  of  the  same  object,  and 
that  custom — manufactured  by  an  erroneous 
idea  of  a  masculine  kingship  in  the  world — 
had  placed  woman  in  the  condition  of  a  being 
who  could  exist  only  by  sufferance  in  the  royal 
domain  of  her  lord  and  master. 

"What  is  this  marriage?"  she  asked  herself, 
writh  bitter  inward  searching.  "Here  am  1,  a 
woman,  with  loves,  hopes,  aspirations,  and  a 
sense  of  growing  wings,  and  a  panting  after  the 
pure  atmosphere  of  truth  and  reality.  Shams 
have  come  to  be  miasma  to  my  soul ;  and  there 
is  that  man, — low,  grovelling,  sensual;  farther 
from  me  in  spirit  than  east  is  from  the  west; 
more  diverse  from  me  in  his  tastes  and  pur- 
suits than  is  the  carrion  kite  from  the  eagle, — 
and  behold,  he  holds  the  key  of  my  being,  and 
is  supposed  to  lock  and  unlock  at  his  pleasure 
the  receptacle  of  my  will.  He  is  the  arbiter 
of  my  destiny,  the  lawful  owner  of  my  body, 
14 


210  SEQUEL  TO 

my  soul,  my  time,  my  earnings,  my  children. 
He  can  live  with  me,  and  provide  for  me  when 
it  pleases  him;  and  when  his  tastes  so  incline 
him  he  can  leave  me  to  seek  his  own  pleasure, 
and  utterly  fail  to  provide  either  for  me  or  for 
the  children  I  have  borne.  He  can  exhaust  all 
his  ingenuity  in  devising  petty  cruelties  to 
inflict  on  me  and  mine.  He  can  subject  me 
to  his  unnatural  lusts,  and  my  babies  to  his 
vile  example  and  teachings.  And  in  all  this  I 
am  utterly  powerless.  The  law  furnishes  me 
no  escape.  There  is  only  one  loop-hole  of 
release  from  this  most  horrible  slavery,  and 
that  is  the  possibility  of  being  able  to  prove 
him  guilty  of  adultery — in  flagrantc  delicto. 
The  fact  that  he  is  a  most  gross  adulterer,  and 
has  daily  sought  to  debase  me  and  mine  to  his 
own  beastly  level,  does  not  avail  me:  the  law 
has  no  reference  to  motives,  but  only  to  acts; 
and  no  reference  to  acts  not  admissible  of  the 
strictest  proof.  Two  facts  stand  out  pre-emi- 
nently :  First,  I  am  a  woman  possessed  of  no 
political  rights,  and  consequently  shut  out  from 
all  social  privileges  and  remunerative  employ- 


UP  BROADWAY.  211 

ment,  and  on  this  account  denied  even  a  roof 
to  shelter  my  children ;  and  next,  I  am  a 
legally-made  wife,  and  the  law  makes  it  dis- 
graceful for  such  a  one  to  take  the  first  step 
towards  freedom." 

Cast  down,  yet  not  quite  in  despair, — for  in 
some  strange,  incomprehensible  manner  the 
mere  turning  over  of  these  questions  in  her 
mind  had  given  a  force  to  her  will  which 
made  fighting  a  deal  easier  than  it  had  first 
appeared,  — our  friend  enters  the  house  that  she 
feels  is  no  longer  a  shelter  for  her  and  her 
precious  ones.  What  shall  she  do  ?  The  heav- 
ens were  dark  to  her;  light  seemed  to  have 
faded  out  of  the  sky.  "Where  will  she  and  her 
children  go,  when  the  cruel  summons  comes  to 
leave  their  present  quarters?  She  stood  look- 
ing moodily  and  carelessly  out  of  the  window, 
as  though  she  were  trying  to  realize  that  out 
of  doors  was  all  that  was  left  her,  and  to 
study  the  possibility  of  any  comfort,  any  char- 
ity, any  hope  being  able  to  come  to  her  out  of 
the  cold,  hard  pavement,  or  the  chill  November 
sky. 


212  SEQUEL   TO 

"Has  God  forsaken  me?"  she  asked  herself; 
"and  is  this  the  fruit  I  am  to  reap  after 
my  weary  planting?  Yerily,  it  is  Dead  Sea 
fruit,  and  all  the  bitterer  that  my  children 
must  eat  it  as  well  as  I." 

But  God  had  not  forsaken  her.  He  had  yet 
need  of  her.  A  friend  and  neighbor  entered 
at  this  juncture — a  lady  in  every  way  fitted 
to  sympathize  with  and  assist  our  friend. 
Warm-hearted  and  possessed  of  ample  means, 
she  at  once  volunteered  to  advance  her  what 
was  needed  to  help  her  out  of  her  present 
trouble.  With  this  sudden  and  unexpected 
lifting  of  the  cloud  that  had  obscured  her 
prospects,  came  corresponding  joy;  for  she 
was  one  of  those  chameleon  natures  that  take 
the  color  of  what  they  feed  on;  and  as  hith- 
erto the  bitter  waters  had  filled  her  soul,  so 
now  the  sweet  wine  of  human  sympathy 
cheered  her  heart  like  a  medicine.  Pressing 
her  babies  to  her  heart,  in  a  transport  of  re- 
newed hope  and  joy,  she  hurried  down  to 
the  agent  with  the  money  which  was  to  secure 
her  another  month  at  least  of  proprietorship 


UP  BROADWAY.  213 

of  house  and  home.  No  mercenary  tyrant 
would  now,  for  a  time  at  least,  dare  to  ques- 
tion her  right  to  the  protection  of  a  roof. 
Oh!  the  blessed  sense  of  having  a  right  some- 
where to  a  spot  that  we  could  call  home, — 
a  right  that  no  other  human  being  can  dis- 
pute. This  sense  was  Nellie's  as  now  she 
retraced  her  steps  to  her  own  home,  —  the 
home  where  all  her  treasures  were  gathered. 
But  the  cup  of  joy  is  never  unmixed  in  this 
world.  That  very  evening  our  heroine  was 
to  discover  that  the  weekly  stipend  she  was 
to  receive  from  her  husband's  employer  had 
failed  her.  The  merchant  for  whom  he  had 
gone  as  commercial  traveller  informed  her 
that  he  could  pay  no  more  salary  until  her 
legal  protector  (?)  should  have  been  heard 
from,  as  the  latter  had  valuable  samples  that 
might  easily  be  turned  to  pecuniary  account. 
Nellie,  being  a  reasonable  women,  could  not 
but  see  the  justice  of .  this,  hard  as  it  was  for 
her  to  accept  the  consequences.  The  mer- 
chant's conduct  was  kind  and  gentlemanly, 
though,  of  course,  his  hopes  that  she  would 


SEQUEL   TO 

get  along,  etc.,  seemed  rather  like  the  offer 
of  a  fair-looking  stone  in  the  place  of  the 
bread  she  was  so  much  in  need  of.  She  had 
not  yet  learned  the  hard  lesson  that  subse- 
quent contact  with  the  world  taught  her,  —  that 
while  simple  justice  was  a  scarce  commodity 
in  society,  generosity  was  still  scarcer;  and 
that  a  woman,  exposing  her  heart  to  the  .sharp 
corners  of  business  life,  must  either  suffer  or 
grow  callous.  Nothing  was  heard  from  the 
derelict  spouse.  Thrown  now  entirely  upon 
her  own  resources,  our  friend  began  at  once 
to  call  her  forces  together.  The  eldest  boy 
was  taken  from  school  and  placed  in  a  tea- 
broker's  office  in  "Wall  street ;  the  second,  a 
mere  child,  obtained  a  situation  in  a  store,  as 
cash-boy.  The  young  sister,  whose  progress 
as  a  scholar  had  elicited  such  high  hopes  of 
ultimate  distinction,  was  also  taken  from  her 
studies  and  obliged  to  contribute  towards  the 
great  work  of  bread-winning.  The  music  pu- 
pils were  but  few,  and  the  proceeds  from  that 
quarter  totally  inadequate  for  the  support  of 
the  family.  Work  of  some  kind  must  be 


UP  BROAD  WA  F.  215 

solicited,  and  that  speedily.  The  first  thing 
done  in  the  needlework  line  was  some  em- 
broidery for  Lord  &  Taylor.  The  young  sis- 
ter applied  in  answer  to  an  advertisement, 
and  on  giving  satisfactory  references  was  al- 
lowed the  privilege  of  elaborately  embroider- 
ing a  child's  heavy  pique  cloak  and  cape,  for 
which,  after  ten  days'  steady  work,  she  was 
allowed  the  munificent  sum  of  one  dollar  and 
seventy-five  cents.  True,  both  embroiderers 
were  entirely  unskilled,  and  true  that  one 
accustomed  to  such  work  could  have  accom- 
plished it  in  half  the  time ;  but  that  the 
compensation  was  in  no  way  proportionate  to 
the  amount  of  labor,  all  must  perceive  who 
have  the  least  conception  of  the  number  of 
delicate  stitches  elaborately-made  garments  of 
this  description  require.  No  more  embroidery 
was  of  course  attempted.  Work  must  be 
sought,  and  a  kind  of  work  that  would  fill 
the  children's  mouths.  With  a  courageous 
heart  our  little  friend  applied  to  various  fam- 
ilies at  random.  Strange  to  say,  she  met  with 
considerable  success.  Her  sweet,  earnest  ex- 


216  SEQUEL  TO 

pression,  so  full  of  honest  purpose  and  deter- 
mination to  succeed,  went  straight  to  the 
hearts  of  many  women,  who,  engrossed  in 
domestic  and  social  duties,  scarcely  ever  give 
a  thought  to  the  struggling  millions  crying 
out  for  the  means  of  honest  livelihood.  But 
oh!  who  shall  tell,  as  it  ought  to  be  told,  of 
the  covert  insult  and  suspicion  which  she  was 
obliged  to  encounter  —  of  the  many  snares  laid 
for  her  tender  feet?  Does  the  correct  and 
prosperous  and  polite  world  know  to  what 
suspicion  and  insolent  advances  a  young  and 
pretty  woman  exposes  herself,  who  dares,  being 
poor  and  hungry,  to  seek  for  work?  For  in- 
stance, our  friend  advertised  for  shirts  to 
make.  Answers  to  these  advertisements  were 
plentiful.  Young  men  called,  not  with  the 
intention  of  having  shirts  made,  but  with  the 
understanding  that  the  advertisement  was  a 
ruse  to  cover  some  less  respectable  proposi- 
tion. One  man  called,  and,  seating  himself, 
very  cavalierly  began  a  conversation  on  the 
general  topics  of  the  day.  The  advertisement 
was  reverted  to  by  the  ladies,  but  the  sugges- 


UP  BROAD  WAT.  217 

tion  was  waived  by  the  intruder,  and  subjects 
entirely  irrelevant  to  the  shirt  question  at 
issue  discussed  very  intelligently;  for  the  man 
was  well  educated  and  unusually  brilliant. 
His  questions  were  answered  in  a  quiet  and 
lady-like  manner,  and  then  business  again  re- 
verted to  by  the  hostess.  A  strange  smile 
played  around  the  villain's  handsome  mouth 
as  he  replied,  — 

"Shirts,  ladies?  Shirts?  I  cannot  for  the 
life  of  me  understand  why  ladies^  of  your 
elegant  appearance  should  advertise  for  shirts 
to  make.  Some  other  style  of  invitation  would 
have  answered  your  purpose  just  as  well, 
and"- 

"And,"  interrupted  the  elder  sister,  rising, 
"you  have  evidently  entirely  mistaken  the 
motives  which  prompted  the  insertion  of  that 
advertisement.  You  will  have  the  kindness, 
sir,  to  leave  the  house  as  quickly  as  you  can 
make  it  convenient." 

"With  a  muttered  curse  the  scamp  left.  Hav- 
ing never  seen  this  man  before,  it  might  be 
thought  the  probabilities  were  that  this  would 


218  SEQUEL   TO 

be  the  last  time  the  ladies  would  meet  him. 
But  although  in  the  kaleidoscope  changes  of  this 
life  of  ours  the  same  combinations  rarely  occur, 
it  does  happen  once  in  a  while,  by  some  inscruta- 
ble agency,  and  for  some  strange  purpose,  that 
the  very  persons  whom  one  would  wish  to  avoid, 
and  be  unrecognized  by,  are  the  ones  met. 
When,  after  a  little  time,  our  friends,  by  their 
success  in  the  branch  of  literature  they  had  un- 
dertaken, were  able  once  again  to  enter  the 
circle  of  society  from  which  their  poverty  had 
for  years  debarred  them,  it  was  their  fortune 
frequently  to  meet  this  man  who  had  been 
ready  to  insult  them  in  their  need.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  he  was  what  is  popularly  termed  a 
"  ladies'  man ;"  and  though  there  were  more 
than  whispered  surmises  afloat  of  immoralities 
which,  were  society  on  a  really  moral  basis, 
would  be  sufficient  to  ostracize  the  perpetrator 
from  the  pale  of  every  decent  family  in  the 
community,  he  was  courted,  flattered,  and 
pampered  by  almost  every  woman  he  met. 
Mothers  invited  the  polished  rottenness  to  their 
homes,  and  seated  him  at  their  tables  by  their 


UP  BROADWAY.  219 

daughters,  whom,  had  they  been  the  guilty 
partners  of  his  offence,  they,  the  mothers 
who  bore  them,  would  have  doomed  to  exile 
from  home,  or  at  least  to  the  utmost  social  ex- 
clusion. He  was  courted,  not  as  a  man,  but  as  a 
husband.  His  great  wealth  and  the  appoint- 
ments of  an  elegant  establishment  were  objects 
of  envy  to  the  opposite  sex.  These  he  could 
give  to  the  wife  whose  education  had  fitted  her 
for  nothing  better  than  the  life  of  a  mute  bird 
in  a  gilded  cage,  of  a  petted  slave  in  a  palace. 
As  a  man,  he  might  be  vile,  reckless,  and  devil- 
ish; as  a  legalized  husband,  the  union  blessed 
by  the  blasphemously  misconstrued  words  of  di- 
vinity, "Whom  God  hath  joined  together  let 
not  man  put  asunder,"  he  might  own  and  do  as 
he  pleased  with  the  wife  who  was  sold  to  him. 
This  is  what  the  laws  of  the  State  of  New 
York  and  the  tone  of  society  bring  us  to.  This 
is  the  effect  of  that  system  of  education  and 
misconstruction  of  Christianity  which  gives  us 
two  moral  codes,  one  for  man  and  another  for 
woman,  instead  of  the  same  law  for  both. 
Not  for  all  the  world  would  I  have  women 


220  SEQUEL   TO 

less  pure  than  they  are,  not  for  all  the  world 
would  I  have  them  allowed  the  license  that  is 
given  to  men ;  but  I  would  have  men  obliged 
to  hold  their  positions  by  as  stern  rules  as  they 
demand  women  to  live  by.  I  would  have  them 
feel  under  obligations  to  be  as  clean  and  pure 
as  they  expect  their  wives  and  sisters  to  be; 
and,  above  all,  I  would  have  women  demand 
it  of  them.  The  majority  of  women  (shame 
that  it  should  be  true)  are  exacting  to  the 
uttermost  with  women.  If  a  sister  slips  she 
must  fall;  and  fallen,  she  must  be  trampled 
down  into  the  very  mud  of  disgrace  and  deg- 
radation by  her  own  sex,  while  they  smile  upon, 
and  perhaps  rnarry,  her  seducer.  "Women  shut 
the  doors  of  society  against  her,  and  she  may 
walk  the  streets  hell  ward,  even  into  its  very 
chasm,  and  be  swallowed  up  by  the  whirlpool 
of  pollution,  while  the  tempter  and  partner  of 
her  sin  is  feted  and  caressed  by  morally  severe 
matrons,  and  their  daughters,  carefully  in- 
structed in  blandishments,  and  drilled  in  arts, 
are  set  as  baits  to  trap  him  into  matrimony. 
!Nbne  who  really  understand  the  working  of 


UP  BROADWAY.  221 

that  moral  sham  which  is  known  as  good  society 
will  deny  the  truth  of  this  statement.  "Women 
are  educated  for  but  one  purpose  —  marriage. 
Not  for  its  duties,  either,  but  its  position,  and 
what  they  are  taught  to  regard  as  its  protection. 
If  these  fail  them,  they  are  left  either  to  a  de- 
grading dependence  or  to  a  weary  struggle  for 
independence  against  such  obstacles  as  we  have 
cited,  and  hundreds  of  others  which  men,  in 
adopting  a  career  or  profession  can  know  noth- 
ing of.  The  morality  of  our  society  does  not 
demand  that  a  pure  affection  should  be  the 
motive  to  this  union  which  it  professes  to  con- 
sider so  sacred  that  nothing  but  death  may 
dissolve  it,  unless  it  be  the  one  crime  of  adultery. 
It  may  be  policy,  it  may  be  lust  of  the  eyes, 
or  lust  of  the  flesh,  or  the  pride  of  the  world 
that  imites  the  two  in  this  bond.  Society  and 
our  laws,  our  church  even,  demand  nothing  of 
the  motive  so  the  rite  is  consummated.  Mar- 
riage is  sacred,  says  the  oracle.  As  if  any  form, 
civil  or  religious,  could  consecrate  such  unions 
as  those  we  have  referred  to!  Legalize  them 
the  "  contract "  or  the  priestly  benediction  may, 


222  SEQUEL   TO 

but  make  them  pure  and  holy,  and  free  them 
from  being  adulterous  in  the  sight  of  God— 
never !  Yet  ordained  ministers  of  the  Gospel, 
anointed  priests  of  the  Most  High,  lend  their 
aid  to  bind  such  elements  together.  Notwith- 
standing the  fiat  of  the  law  that  marriage  is 
here  only  a  civil  contract,  and  while  Mr. 
Beecher  hesitates  not  to  say  that  he  performs 
the  ceremony  merely  as  a  civil  magistrate,  yet 
prayer  and  religious  rites,  even  to  the  benedic- 
tion allowed  by  the  church  only  to  be  pro- 
nounced by  her  ministry,  are  used  when 
clergymen  officiate. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Gallagher,  a  popular  divine  in 
the  City  of  Churches,  in  an  eloquent  sermon 
upon  "Our  Father,"  a  short  time  ago,  openly 
avowed  that  he  had  joined  those  together  whom 
God  would  have  had  remain  asunder,  had  acted 
officially  at  marriages  which  he  knew  God  neither 
sanctioned  nor  approved,  and  the  consequences  of 
which  he  felt  sure  would  be  disastrous.  Now, 
that  minister  is  110  exception  to  the  general  cleri- 
cal rule,  save  in  the  matter  of  frankness.  Is  it 
not  evident  to  every  one  that  many  such  mock- 


UP  BROADWAY. 


marriges  are  performed  by  clergymen  every  day  ? 
Marriages  with  which  these  very  reverend  gyve- 
fasteners  know  that  God  has  nothing  to  do.  And 
if  man  shall  not  put  asunder  what  God  has  joined 
together,  how  shall  it  be  with  those  whom  He 
has  not  joined?  Is  the  disciple  above  his  Master 
in  this  matter  ?  and  is  the  sanction  of  a  man  to 
outweigh  and  overrule  that  of  God  himself? 
For  our  part  we  believe  what  God  has  joined 
together  man  never  can  put  asunder ;  and  as  for 
what  He  has  not  joined  the  sooner  it  is  loosed 
the  better. 

But  to  our  story.  For  two  months  the  wolf 
Hunger  was  kept  away  from  our  friend's  door, 
but  the  terrible  amount  of  household  labor, 
together  with  sewing,  music-teaching,  and  the 
demands  of  a  nursing  infant,  proved  too  much 
for  her,  and  she  rapidly  failed  in  health.  "What 
could  be  done?  Everything  that  human  ingenu- 
ity could  devise  had  been  tried.  The  old  pul- 
monary complaint  developed  itself  in  a  frightful 
manner.  Sewing  dragged.  Hope  failed.  Faith 
in  God's  goodness  grew  dim.  Orders  were  neg- 
lected. What  in  the  world  should  she  do,  now 


224:  SEQUEL   TO 

that  illness  had  overtaken  her  ?  To  whom  should 
she  turn  ?  The  rent  had  been  punctually  paid ; 
now  the  chances  were  that  she  should  no  longer 
be  able  to  keep  a  roof  over  her  children's  heads. 
What  would  become  of  her  little  ones  ?  Only  a 
mother  can  realize  the  depth  and  intensity  of 
this  mother's  anguish.  The  pittance  brought  in 
by  the  little  boys  every  Saturday,  and  the  small 
amount  her  sister  was  able  to  earn,  had  now  to 
suffice..  This  sum  would  not  procure  sufficient 
food  for  the  family,  to  say  nothing  of  rent,  coal, 
wood,  and  the  thousand  and  one  expenses  so 
necessary  to  the  comfort  of  a  household.  "  Why 
don't  you  write?"  had  more  than  once  been 
asked  her  by  friends  anxious  for  her  success. 
"  It  seems  to  me  you  possess  the  elements  of  a 
writer.  Why  don't  you  try  ? "  The  knowledge 
that  thousands  of  women  in  similar  circum- 
stances had  turned  to  literature  as  a  last  resort, 
and  failed  utterly,  had  deterred  her  from  the 
attempt ;  but  now  in  the  midst  of  this  wreck, 
this  confusion,  this  terrible  heart-rending  suffer- 
ing, came  the  knowledge  that  she  must  make  one 
more  trial  before  deserting  the  ship. 


UP  BROADWAY.  225 

Many  a  time  had  she,  when  a  child,  sat  upon 
her  father's  knee,  after  a  hard  lesson  in  mathe- 
matics, and  listened  to  a  favorite  song  of  his, 
sung  on  these  occasions  to  comfort  the  little 
daughter  so  dear  to  him,  and  give  her  strength 
and  "  spunk,"  as  he  facetiously  called  it,  to  pur- 
sue her  studies  faithfully.  Each  verse  ended 
with  "Never  give  up  the  ship,  boys!  Never 
give  up  the  ship ! " 

The  idea  of  being  driven  into  literature  was 
terribly  obnoxious,  for  she  argued  that  it  was 
impossible  for  any  one  smarting  from  the  goad- 
ing lash  of  poverty  —  supposing  he  or  she  pos- 
sessed of  sufficient  talent  —  to  attain  a  respecta- 
ble position  among  writers.  One  more  trial 
must  she  endure  before  sufficient  courage  could 
be  given  her  for  the  attempt. 

It  was  evening,  cold  and  bleak.  A  failure  to 
pay  the  gas-bill  had  resulted  in  a  removal  of  the 
connection  pipe,  and  so,  by  the  light  of  a  soli- 
tary candle,  she  prepared  the  scanty  supper  for 
her  family.  It  consisted  of  bread  and  milk.  The 
baby  cried  for  want  of  proper  nourishment,  but 
bread  and  milk  could  not  be  partaken  of  by  the 
15 


226  SEQUEL   TO   UP  BROADWAY. 

mother  if  baby  starved  and  died.  So  weak  tea 
took  the  place  of  food,  and  hot  tears  rained 
down  upon  the  little  upturned  face,  whose  won- 
dering expression  seemed  to  say,  "  "What  have  I 
done  that  I  must  be  starved  in  this  strange  man- 
ner ?"  So  without  a  murmer  — for  the  children 
well  understood  that  their  mother  had  strained 
every  nerve  to  procure  them  food,  and  were 
heart-broken  at  her  miserable  appearance  —  the 
little  ones  were  tucked  into  bed.  Their  inno- 
cent petitions  ascended  to  the  throne  of  love 
and  mercy,  and  childlike  and  simple  though 
they  were,  we  believe  and  know  that  they  were 
heard  and  answered,  and  that  speedily.  Pre- 
cious little  three-year-old  having  repeated  "  Now 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep,"  &c.,  and  asked  God  to 
bless  all  his  relations  and  acquaintances,  ended 
with  this  extremely  practical  entreaty :  "  Make 
Josey  a  good  little  boy;  and  please,  dear  God, 
send  Josey  some  more  milk." 


CHAPTEE  IIL 

1HE  mother  took  the  little  fellow  in  her 
arms,  pressed  him  to  her  heart,  and 
vowed,  then  and  there,  that,  in  spite  of 
ill-health,  in  spite  of  the  terrible  network  of  cir- 
cumstances wound  about  her,  in  spite  of  cold, 
hunger,  and  starvation,  she  would  never  "give 
up  the  ship "  until  she  had  reached  a  place  where 
not  only  little  Josey  could  have  all  the  milk  he 
desired,  but  where  she  herself  should  be  able  to 
say,  "  I  have  conquered ;  I  have  secured  hon- 
orable independence  for  myself  and  children." 
Never  before  had  she  been  so  completely  bereft, 
and  never  before  so  profoundly  certain  of  suc- 
cess. Go  away  illness ;  go  away  repining.  No 
more  time  to  think  of  aches  and  troubles.  But 
what  shall  she  do  ?  Ay,  what  ?  "  Well,  some- 
thing," she  whispered  to  herself ;  "  and  some- 
thing, too,  that  will  pay."  Just  then  the  door- 
(227) 


228  SEQUEL  TO 

bell  announced  that  some  one — friend  or  enemy 
—  desired  to  enter.  Our  friend  had  learned, 
from  the  bitterest  experience,  that  a  person  to 
whom  she  owed  a  dollar  was  an  enemy  of  the 
most  unrelenting  description;  and  although  her 
debts  were  by  no  means  numerous,  yet  a  pull  of 
the  bell  was  sufficient  to  throw  her  into  a  state 
of  nervous  excitement  impossible  to  describe. 
Only  those  who  have  had  similar  experiences  can 
form  the  least  idea  of  the  soul  travail  consequent 
upon  such  terrible  excitement.  An  exceedingly 
pleasant  face  met  her  as  she  opened  the  door, 
proving  to  be  a  gentleman  who  had  visited  the 
house  on  several  occasions  by  her  husband's  in- 
vitation. 

"  I  have  just  heard,"  said  he,  "  that  you  were 
in  great  trouble,  and  have  called  to  express  my 
sympathy,  and  see  if  I  could  not  be  of  service  to 
you  and  your  little  family." 

Her  heart  almost  stopped  beating  with  the  joy 
of  the  moment.  She  knew  he  was  a  very  wealthy 
and  influential  man ;  and  it  was  in  his  power  to 
do  her  a  great  service  if  he  chose  ;  and  the  kind 
expression  lighting  up  the  visitor's  face  gave  de- 


UP  BROAD  WA  F.  229 

cided  assurance  that  lie  intended  to  assist  her  in 
some  way.  "  Oh  ! "  she  thought,  "  if  he  will  only 
help  me  to  a  position  where  I  can  support  my- 
self, I  shall  soon  be  able  to  return  the  obliga- 
tion." After  several  questions  in  reference  to 
her  terrible  condition,  and  a  few  well-timed  as- 
surances of  sympathy,  he  at  last  approached  the 
errand  which  had  brought  him  to  our  friend's 
house. 

"  I  have  come  to  make  you  a  proposition,"  he 
said.  "  You  must  have  seen,  on  the  few  occa- 
sions I  have  dined  at  your  house,  that  I  not  only 
admired  you  very  much,  but  was  quite  capable 
of  appreciating  a  woman  of  your  calibre.  I  feel 
sure  that  you  and  I  can  come  to  terms  without 
the  least  trouble." 

"  Most  likely,"  replied  Nellie  ;  "  for  I  am  will- 
ing to  do  anything  which  will  bring  to  myself 
and  family  an  honorable  maintenance.  I  am 
almost  distracted  with  these  wretched  circum- 
stances and  my  fearfully  unprotected  position." 

"  I  understand  and  appreciate  it,  madam,  and 
will  protect  and  care  for  you  with  my  life  if 
necessary.  You  are  in  delicate  health,  and  quite 


230  SEQUEL  TO 

unfitted  even  for  the  ordinary  ups  and  downs  of 
this  strange  world.  Let  me  tell  you  about  my- 
self. I  have  a  nice  house  in  street,  com- 
fortably furnished,  and  perfectly  convenient.  I 
am  a  married  man,  I  suppose  you  know,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  but  my  wife  has  been  an  invalid  for 
some  years,  and  on  this  account  my  home  is  not 
so  pleasant  as  it  otherwise  would  be." 

"What  could  it  mean?"  she  asked  herself. 
He  surely  woi^ld  not  invite  her  to  take  charge 
of  his  establishment.  So  many  children  in  the 
house  with  an  invalid  would  never  do,  of  course, 
and  what  could  it  be  ?  Her  eyes  must  have  ex- 
pressed wonderment,  for  he  continued  still  in  the 
same  cool,  business  manner, — 

"  My  dear  lady,  do  not  misunderstand  me.  I 
will  educate  your  children  exactly  in  accordance 
with  your  preferences.  Everything,  in  fact,  shall 
be  as  you  wish  it.  You  will  be  perfect  mistress 
of  your  house  and  of  your  own  actions,  and  once 
a  week  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you." 

A  strange  blindness  came  over  Nellie's  percep- 
tions. Looking  at  him  with  that  vertical  corru- 


UP  BMOADWAY.  231 

gation  of  the  brow  and  diminution  of  the  pupils 
of  the  eye  which  indicate  extreme  bewilderment, 
she  asked, — 

"  And  why?  What  am  I  to  do  for  all  this? 
What  equivalent  am  I  expected  to  give  you  for 
so  liberal  a  compensation  ? " 

His  face  took  a  look  of  amaze  at  this  ques- 
tion. 

"Is  it  possible,"  he  inquired,  "that  you  still 
misunderstar.d  my  meaning?  But  surely  you 
must  comprehend  me  ;  and  to  prove  to  you  —  if 
your  doubt  lies  in  that  direction — that  I  actually 
mean  business,  I  hereby  beg  leave  to  deposit  with 
you  five  hundred  dollars  with  which  to  make 
yourself  and  family  comfortable  until  "- 

Quick  as  a  flash  the  truant  senses  returned  to 
our  heroine,  and  with  them  furious  indignation. 
As  he  laid  the  notes  on  her  lap  —  they  were  new 
notes,  beautiful,  fresh,  and  tempting!  — she  took 
them  between  her  fingers  and  twisted  them  until 
they  came  apart,  then  throwing  them,  in  a  storm 
of  scorn  and  anger  upon  the  floor,  said,  — 

"  I  have  put  my  children  to  bed  hungry  to- 
iiight,  sir,  and  have  scarcely  tasted  food  for  two 


232  SEQUEL    TO 

days  myself,  and  as  far  as  the  body  is  concerned 
am  ready  to  perish.  There  lies  the  money  with 
which  you  would  tempt  me  to  earn  the  wages 
of  sin  and  shame !  Take  it,  and  with  it  the 
recollection  that  you  have  met  one  woman  who 
would  a  million  times  rather  starve  herself,  and 
see  her  children  drop  dead  at  her  feet,  than  be- 
come the  victim  of  any  man's  lust.  Take  it,  and 
leave  my  house  this  instant,  and  never  dare  show 
your  villainous  face  to  me  again." 

Utterly  crestfallen,  he  stooped  to  pick  up  the 
torn  notes,  and  then,  turning  on  his  heel,  without 
a  word  complied  with  her  emphatic  invitation, 
even  to  the  last  clause,  for  she  never  did  see  his 
face  again.  A  day  or  two  after,  however,  came 
a  grocer's  wagon  to  her  door,  with  a  supply  of 
provisions  sufficient  to  last  for  a  considerable 
time  ;  and,  though  no  name  was  sent  with  them, 
she  felt  sure  that  this  man  was  the  donor.  The 
City  Hall  clock  pealed  out  the  hour  of  nine  as 
her  visitor  departed.  She  closed  the  doors,  and 
then  looked  her  situation  full  in  the  face  again. 
Had  God  quite  forsaken  her  ?  she  asked  herself. 
Had  the  good  angels  forgotten  all  about  herself 


UP  BROADWAY.  233 

and  dear  ones  ?  Something  must  be  done.  The 
babies  had  sobbed  themselves  to  sleep.  Tear- 
drops still  glistened  on  little  Josey's  cheek.  She 
was  so  faint  herself  from  long  fasting  that  she 
could  with  difficulty  lift  baby,  who  refused  to 
be  comforted  without  another  attempt  to  draw 
sustenance  from  the  fount  which  never  before 
had  so  entirely  failed  her.  Her  duty  was  now 
plain.  The  probabilities  were,  if  she  waited  until 
morning  before  an  effort  was  made  to  procure 
food  she  would  be  too  ill  to  take  further  care  of 
her  family.  So,  with  the  moaning  infant  in  her 
arms,  she  knocked  at  the  door  of  a  neighbor's 
house.  Even  then  pride  was  mighty.  How  could 
she  tell  a  human  soul  of  her  starving  condition  ? 
What  though  the  neighbor  was  a  friend — one 
who  had  always  appeared  interested  in  every- 
thing concerning  her — this  was  begging,  nothing 
else.  As  she  stood  waiting  for  the  door  to  open 
memory  went  back  to  the  funeral  sermon 
preached  at  the  burial  of  her  father,  when  the 
minister  had  declared  that  the  seed  of  the  right- 
eous should  never  be  forsaken,  and  yet  here  she 
was  begging  bread.  What  wonder,  then,  that 


234:  SEQUEL   TO 

the  poor  woman  doubted  that  such  a  thing  as 
justice  ever  existed;  that  she  questioned  all  good- 
ness and  mercy,  and  asked  herself,  as  millions 
have  before,  what  possible  good  such  wretched- 
ness could  accomplish.  The  door  was  opened 
by  the  lady  herself. 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  she  inquired,  "  what  is  the 
matter?  You  are  as  pale  as  death;  and  the 
baby,  too,  out  at  this  time  of  night!  Why, 
child,  what  has  happened?  Has  he  got  home?" 

Not  a  man,  woman,  or  child  in  the  neighbor- 
hood but  detested  the  man  our  friend  called 
husband,  and  the  neighbors  naturally  concluded 
that  this  might  probably  account  for  her  hag- 
gard appearance  and  evident  distress. 

"No;  I  have  not  heard  a  word  from  that 
quarter,"  replied  Nellie;  "but  my  children  are 
starving,  and  I  am  so  weak  from  continued 
fasting  that  I  can  hardly  stand.  For  Heaven's 
sake  attend  to  us  quickly,  or  we  shall  die ! " 

"Oh!  how  could  you?"  cried  the  neighbor. 
"  My  dear,  how  could  you  suffer  so  without  tell- 
ing me  ?  You  know  I  love  you  as  one  of  my  own 
children." 


UP  BROADWAY.  235 

If  there  happen  to  be  any  among  my  readers 
who  know  from  experience  what  hunger  is,  they 
can  appreciate  the  feelings  of  our  friend,  when 
she  re-entered  her  own  house  supplied  with  an 
ample  supper  for  her  children.  The  two  older 
ones  were  lying  awake,  —  growing  boys  with 
healthy  appetites,  who  had  gone  supperless  to  bed 
after  a  day  of  scanty  fare.  Little  Josey,  whose 
patient  suffering  had  so  pierced  his  mother's 
heart,  wThen  plaintively  asking  God  for  "some 
more  milk,"  was  waked  from  the  sobbing  sleep 
he  had  fallen  into,  and  fed,  as  were  all  the  rest, 
with  good,  nourishing  food.  Starvation  was  once 
more  warded  off.  Now  what  should  she  do? 
She  could  not  subsist  on  charity.  "  I  will  try  and 
write  something,"  she  murmured  softly  to  herself. 
"  Who  knows  but  I  may  succeed.  Surely  every 
avenue  of  honorable  employment  cannot  be 
closed  against  me."  All  alone,  in  the  still  hours 
of  night,  by  the  light  of  a  solitary  flickering 
candle,  she  commenced  her  work.  Eleven  — 
twelve  —  one — two — three  o'clock  sounded  out 
on  the  calm  night,  and  still  she  wrote.  ISTo  sound 
was  heard  save  the  steady  scratching  of  the  pen, 


236  SEQUEL   TO 

and  the  breathing  of  the  sleeping  little  ones, 
which  latter  sound  seemed  to  spur  her  more 
earnestly  on.  As  a  lover  of  music  marches  ani- 
matedly and  in  good  time  to  the  strains  of  martial 
melody,  so  did  this  anxious,  earnest  mother  write 
to  the  music  of  her  children's  breathing.  Four 
o'clock,  and  the  manuscript  was  finished.  Trem- 
bling with  mingled  hope  and  fear  she  read  it 
carefully  through,  and  then,  tying  it  lovingly  up 
with  a  piece  of  blue  ribbon,  laid  it  away  and  re- 
tired. The  morning  light  found  her  dubious  and 
almost  hopeless.  She  was  aware  how  hard  it  was 
for  one  not  possessed  of  any  literary  reputation 
to  sell  anything.  Nowhere  as  much  as  in  the  lit- 
erary world  does  the  vulgar  old  saying  hold  good, 
"  Get  your  name  up,  and  you  can  lie  in  bed  till 
noon."  Equally  applicable  is  the  French  proverb, 
(Test  le  premier  pas  qui  coute.  But  she  could 
not  afford  to  be  daunted  by  considerations  like 
these.  However  forlorn  the  hope  might  be,  it 
had  the  flavor  of  hope  still,  and  her  children  must 
have  bread.  With  a  tremor  in  her  heart,  and 
yearning  in  her  "scherin"  eyes  that  doubtless  had 


UP  BROADWAY.  237 

tlie  force  of  a  plea  with  the  kind  editor  to  whom 
she  offered  her  story,  she  waited  for  his  reply. 

"  A  story  I  see  ? "  said  he,  after  a  casual  exam- 
ination, folding  it  up  again. 

"Can  you  not  read  or  have  it  read  now? "  she 
inquired.  "  I  would  so  like  to  know  about  it." 

"Doubtless,"  he  answered.  "But  I  am  just 
going  away  for  the  day,  and  shall  not  have  a  mo- 
ment until  to-morrow  morning;  but  let  me  tell 
you  one  thing,  my  dear  woman,  do  not  for  mercy's 
sake  be  too  hopeful  in  regard  to  its  acceptance. 
"VVe  are  completely  overrun  with  stories  of  this 
description.  You  have  written  before,  I  presume, 
and  know  all  about  these  things." 

"No,  sir,"  she  moaned,  trembling  with  the 
expected  disappointment.  "  This  is  my  first 
attempt." 

""Well,  well,  child,"  he  interrupted,  kindly, 
almost  paternally;  "do  not  borrow  any  trouble 
about  it.  Probably  if  it  doesn't  answer  for  us, 
it  may  for  some  one  else.  Come  in  to-morrow 
about  this  hour,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it." 

None  but  those  who  have  been  through  this 


23$  SEQUEL   TO 

trying  ordeal  of  waiting  can  understand  Nellie's 
feelings  through  the  remainder  of  the  day. 
She  went  on  time  the  next  morning,  though, 
you  may  believe.  The  editor  met  her  with  a 
kind  smile,  and  the  manuscript  in  his  hand. 
It  had  lost  its  blue  ribbon,  and  it  seemed 
to  her  invested  with  a  new  charm  since  its 
lodgment  in  the  editor's  desk. 

"Well!"  said  he,  smiling;  "what  do  you 
think  about  it?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  replied  his  visitor, 
vainly  trying  to  control  herself. 

"  It  is  wicked,"  said"  he,  "  to  keep  you  on  the 
anxious-seat  so  long,  my  child.  I  have  taken 
your  story :  it  is  a  very  good  one,  and  there  is 
nothing  to  hinder  your  making  a  good  long 
mark  in  the  world  of  letters.  Here  is  your 
check;  you  can  get  it  cashed  at  the  desk." 

Desks,  chairs,  inkstands,  papers,  books,  assist- 
ant-editors, and  proof-readers  went  bobbing 
round  for  a  moment  in  strange  confusion.  It 
required  a  pretty  strong  will-power  to  keep  from 
fainting  just  then;  but,  as  in  previous  instances, 
will  conquered,  and  Nellie  presented  herself  at 


UP  BROADWAY.  239 

the  desk  for  her  money,  received  the  astonishing 
sum  of  thirty-live  dollars,  and  went  on  her  way 
rejoicing.  There  was  not  a  prouder  or  happier 
woman  in  America  than  was  she,  as  she  pressed 
her  precious  darlings  to  her  bosom,  knowing  that 
now  she  possessed  the  means  within  herself  to 
ward  off  hunger  from  her  little  ones.  Here,  then, 
was  proof  that  money  was  to  be  earned  by  story- 
writing.  This  door  had  not  shut  in  her  face, 
but  had  opened  with  frank  promise  and  wel- 
come. She  "was  encouraged  and  happy.  There 
were  bread,  clothing,  and  shelter  for  her  dear 
ones  within  easy  and  honorable  reach.  She 
went  on  writing,  with  more  or  less  success,  until 
she  had  secured  a  welcome  for  her  articles  in 
several  of  the  literary  papers  of  the  city.  But 
now  the  chord,  which  had  been  stretched  beyond 
its  strength,  threatened  to  break.  It  often  hap- 
pens so.  "While  the  full  tension  is  on,  the  slender 
thread  seems  strong ;  slacken  it,  and  it  shows 
how  little  there  is  left  of  it.  It  was  so  with  our 
friend's  physicial  energy.  Her  overtaxed  brain 
and  nervous  system  revenged  themselves  the 
moment  they  had  opportunity  to  do  so.  Brain 


240  SEQUEL   TO 

fever  supervened.  For  weeks  the  poor  child  lay 
helpless  and  suffering,  happily  unconscious  how- 
ever, a  part  of  the  time,  that  she  was  no  longer 
able  to  support  her  children.  During  this  long 
struggle  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  our  friend 
had  had  ample  opportunity  to  test  friendship. 
In  a  few  instances  she  had  found  the  precious 
gem,  and  finding,  had  valued  and  enjoyed  it  as 
every  true  woman  must.  She  had  waded 
through  deep  waters,  had  been  subjected  to  per- 
secution and  misconstruction,  had  added  practice 
to  her  natural  discrimination,  and  had  come  to 
judge  accurately  between  the  specious  and  the 
real,  the  false  and  the  true.  Now  she  was  ill, 
and  unable  to  provide  for  her  family;  and  God, 
who  never  utterly  forsakes  his  little  ones,  sent  a 
friend  to  her  relief.  That  friend  was  a  man, 
and  that  man,  strange  as  it  may  seem  here,  a 
Broad  street  broker,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
din,  bustle,  and  excitement  consequent  upon  the 
rise  and  fall  of  stocks,  had  both  time  and  dispo- 
sition to  assist  those  in  need  of  assistance. 
There  was  no  love  in  the  premises,  save  that 
tender  and  unselfish  brotherly  affection  which 


UP  BROADWAY.  241 

every  true  man  must  feel  for  a  delicate  woman 
battling  with  the  dreadful  realities  of  life. 

When  friendship  does  exist  between  a  man 
and  woman,  the  links  are  wonderfully  strong. 
For  weeks  this  friend  ministered  to  the  invalid, 
providing  for  every  want,  and  assuming  the 
whole  responsibility  of  the  family.  No  matter 
who  he  is ;  you  will  find  him  any  day  in  Broad 
street ;  but  his  name  is  known  to  the  angel  who 
wrote  "Ben  Adhem"  as  "one  who  loved  his 
fellow-men."  Convalescence  from  this  illness 
was  slow  but  sure,  and  Nellie  again  found  her- 
self able  to  use  her  pen.  With  no  regular  salary, 
dependent  entirely  upon  the  sale  of  the  articles 
she  was  compelled  to  grind  out  each  week,  it 
was  of  course  terribly  up-hill  work;  and  then, 
too,  she  found  herself  compelled  to  fight  for 
every  inch  of  the  ground  she  travelled.  And 
now  another  word  upon  the  misconstruction  to 
which  pure  and  delicate-minded,  yet  natural  and 
impetuous  women  are  constantly  subjected  in 
their  struggle  for  success  in  the  business  of  life. 
The  story  of  the  pretty  French  girl,  as  told  in 
"  Packard's  Monthly,"  raised  a  curious  cry  of  op- 
16 


242  SEQUEL  TO 

position  from  the  smaller  f ry  of  the  press.  "  It 
was  ridiculous,"  they  declared.  "Very  clearly 
impossible ! "  "  No  editor,  or  respectable  man  of 
any  profession,  would  ever  insult  and  take  ad- 
vantage of  a  young  woman  in  that  way,  if  her 
own  conduct  did  not  furnish  him  an  invitation  to 
do  so.  Thousands  of  women,"  they  persisted, 
"  went  daily  in  and  out  of  newspaper  offices, 
transacting  their  business  with  as  much  freedom 
as  men,  and  were  treated,  in  fact,  with  more  res- 
pect and  deference  than  men  could  be."  In  the 
majority  of  instances  this  is  undoubtedly  the 
case.  It  is  no  part  of  our  purpose  to  slander  the 
profession  of  literature  in  the  person  of  the 
preux  chevaliers  who  have  adopted  it.  And 
yet  not  only  is  the  French  girl's  story  true,  but 
many  another  like  it  might  be  told  by  women 
whose  very  unconsciousness  of  evil  has  led  them 
to  treat  the  betes  noirs  of  the  profession  with 
a  naturalness  and  spontaneity  of  manner  that 
such  natures  can  never  understand.  The  idea 
that  the  treatment  women  receive  at  the  hands 
of  men  depends  exclusively  on  their  own  deport- 
ment is  also  encouraged  by  some  women.  Not 


UP  BROADWAY.  243 

long  ago  I  had  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  a  con- 
versation between  a  well-known  dramatist  and 
litterateur,  and  an  equally  well-known  poetess  of 
New  York  City. 

Said  the  former:  "I  see  no  need  of  women 
raising  this  outcry  in  regard  to  insult.  For  my 
part,  I  have  never  met  with  any  such  trouble. 
I  can  always  command  respect,  because  I  am 
always  myself,  and  know  how  to  assert  myself. 
Misconstruction  ?  Heigho !  That  is  all  non- 
sense." 

"  In  your  case  perhaps  it  is,"  -  replied  her 
witty  companion,  flushing  crimson  to  the  very 
roots  of  her  hair.  "There  are  those,  most  cer- 
tainly, whom  the  obtusest  of  the  obtuse  could 
not  in  any  manner  misconstrue.  They  invite 
freedom  and  receive  it — make  no  fuss  about 
it,  because  it  is  the  diet  they  are  accustomed 
to ;  and  these  are  the  very  women  who  cry  out 
the  loudest  against  their  own  sex.  These  are 
the  women  who  make  men  bad,  and  keep  them 
bad.  My  experience  has  been  not  at  all  like 
yours.  I  have  self-respect,  but  have  not  found 
that  my  mere  presence  was  always  a  sufficient 


244  SEQUEL   TO 

assertion  of  it.  In  fact,"  doubling  tip  her  litfle 
hand  and  extending  it  towards  her  interlocutor, 
"  I  have  on  two  or  three  occasions  in  my  life,  aa 
a  writer,  been  obliged  to  aid  the  logic  of  that 
presence  with  the  more  irresistible  and  compre- 
hensible logic  of  this  fist." 

These  are  hard  facts,  but  facts  nevertheless. 
Sometimes  I  have  reasoned  with  myself  after 
this  wise :  This  dreadful  condition  of  tilings  is 
consequent  upon  the  violation  of  some  law.  At 
a  fire  at  sea,  in  a  gale  of  wind,  or  any  extraor- 
dinary occurrence  where  the  courage  and  good 
behavior  of  men  need  to  be  exhibited,  it  often 
happens  that  they  fall  far  short  of  the  manly,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  heroic  work.  Conflagrations 
and  earthquakes  are  out  of  the  natural  order  of 
things ;  and  so,  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  war  which 
women  are  compelled  to  wage  for  their  bread 
and  butter ;  and  this  may  account  for  the  strange 
conduct  of  some  business  men  towards  women 
compelled  to  labor.  It  is  not  what  they  have 
been  taught  to  consider  the  original  plan,  and  so 
they  fail  to  appreciate  the  motives  which  drive 
women  into  counting-rooms  and  printing-offices. 


UP  BROADWAY.  245 

To  me  there  is  something  terribly  out  of  joint  in 
the  idea  of  a  woman's  hand-to-hand  tussle  with 
business.  It  seems  quite  enough  for  women  to 
bear  the  children  of  the  world,  and  educate  them 
for  positions  of  trust  and  responsibility ;  and  the 
mother  of  a  family  will  find  but  little  time  for 
business  details  if  she  attend  carefully  and  con- 
scientiously to  her  household.  Wifehood  and 
motherhood  will  not  prevent  literary  pursuits. 
On  the  contrary,  women  who  write  because  they 
love  to  write,  and  on  this  account  cannot  help 
writing,  invariably  write  well.  In  fact,  as  every 
human  being,  man  or  woman,  instinctively  feels, 
there  is  something  about  woman  that  utterly 
unfits  her  for  this  rough-and-tumble  life.  It 
seems  to  me  that  God  could  never  have  intended 
that  she  should  be  the  bread-winner.  Her  minis- 
try is  not  in  the  outer  courts  of  the  temple,  but 
belongs  rather  to  the  Holy  of  the  Holies.  We 
speak  here  of  things  as  they  ought  to  be,  not  as 
they  are.  Woman's  best  right,  after  all  is  said 
and  done,  is  the  right  to  a  good  husband ;  and 
the  truer  this  doctrine  is,  the  more  it  will  be  ap- 
parent to  every  acute  mind  that  she  can  be  con- 


246  SEQUEL  TO 

tent  with  nothing  short  of  that  consummation. 
"With  a  half-way  good  husband  she  has  only  half 
her  rights,  and  with  a  bad  one  she  is  in  the  con- 
dition of  an  utter  slave.  Knowing  that  she  has 
the  natural  right  to  a  protecter  and  provider,  if, 
in  order  to  secure  moral  and  physical  safety  to 
herself  and  her  children,  she  finds  it  necessary  to 
leave  the  man  whose  name  she  bears,  must  she 
not  find  the  struggle  for  bread  unnatural  and 
repugnant,  and  must  she  not  become  unnerved, 
shattered,  rasped  —  ready  in  any  moments  of 
anguish  to  lie  down  and  die  from  sheer  exhaus- 
tion and  discouragement  ?  There  are,  of  course, 
some  women  who  possess  to  a  certain  degree 
masculine  traits;  but  we  are  speaking  only  of 
those  whose  womanhood  is  most  perfect.  I  will 
venture  to  say  that  there  cannot  be  found  one 
woman  in  ten  who  earns  her  living  away  from 
home  and  home  loves,  who  will  say  that  such  a 
life  is  desirable.  I  have  talked  with  hosts  of 
them. 

"  My  dear,"  I  have  said  to  more  than  one  poor 
struggling  soul,  "  what  of  all  things  here  below 


UP  BROADWAY.  247 

would  you  most  prefer,  provided  your  wish  could 
be  granted?" 

The  invariable  answer  is,  while  tears  will  fill 
the  tired  eyes :  "  Oh,  somebody  to  love  me  and 
take  care  of  me." 

Mark  well,  oh  ye  who  declare  that  woman's 
happiness  can  be  complete  without  conjugal  love 

THAT     SOMEBODY     IS     NEVEK     A     WOMAN.       This 

comes  from  no  desire  to  shirk  work,  but  because 
they  feel  the  utter  uncongeniality  of  their  em- 
ployment. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  the  dreadful  know- 
ledge stares  us  in  the  face  that  woman  must 
labor — must,  like  her  brother,  earn  her  living  by 
the  sweat  of  her  brow.  There  is  no  way  of 
evading  it.  Would  to  God  there  were !  and  that 
they  could  fill  the  positions  which,  from  the 
duties  expected  of  them,  they  seem  best  fitted 
for.  Would  that  every  true  woman's  heart  could 
be  filled  to  the  brim  with  good,  honest  love. 
What  a  glorious  world  this  would  be  to  live  in 
then !  Now,  while  I  conscientiously  believe  that 
every  woman  pushed  into  the  world  to  toil  in  the 
same  pursuits  as  man  (I  say  nothing  of  the  hun- 


24:8  SEQUEL   TO 

dred  in  every  thousand  who  enjoy  such  elbow- 
ing) is  really  out  of  her  sphere.  I  realize  also 
that  this  cannot  be  prevented,  and  that  protection 
by  law  is  the  just  due  of  such.  If  women  must 
work,  and  in  order  to  accomplish  a  given  result, 
must  labor  twice  as  assiduously  as  their  brothers, 
then  surely  there  is  no  justice  in  any  law  which 
deprives  them  of  a  single  one  of  their  rights. 

Up  to  this  time  our  friend  had  never  seen  Miss 
Anthony — that  earnest,  ardent,  and  most  devoted 
champion  of  woman's  political  rights.  She  had 
become  greatly  interested  in  her  manner  of  put- 
ting things,  although  unable  to  believe,  as  does 
this  good  woman,  that  men  and  women  stand 
upon  the  same  intellectual  platform.  She  had 
noticed  that  girls  with  the  same  advantages,  edu- 
cational and  other,  as  boys,  spent  a  large  part  of 
their  leisure  time  playing  with  dolls,  and  talking 
to  the  minature  representations  of  the  beauty  and 
splendor  of  their  mythical  "papa;"  that  while 
boys  sometimes  stopped  from  their  game  of  ball 
or  tag  to  tap  a  pretty  girl  under  the  chin,  or 
mend  her  hoop,  they  would  again  resume  the 
game,  utterly  oblivious  that  said  little  girl,  very 


UP  BROADWAY.  249 

likely,  stood  in  the  same  spot  expecting  another 
similar  demonstration.  She  had  also  seen  that 
in  anything  requiring  severe  analytical  study, 
boys  were,  as  the  rule,  ahead,  while  in  music, 
composition,  rhetoric  and  the  like,  girls  were 
quite  up  to  the  mark;  and  realized  from  this 
general  and  especial  observation  that  women,  if 
they  live  at  all  as  they  desire,  must  live  in  the 
affection al,  and  that  women  by  nature  are  more 
tender  and  considerate  than  men. 

Our  friend  finally  concluded  to  call  upon 
this  defender  of  women,  Miss  Susan  B.  An- 
thony, and  judge  for  herself  of  her  charac- 
teristics. 

Miss  Anthony  was  engaged,  but  would  be  at 
liberty  presently.  So,  with  a  natural  feeling 
of  awe,  Nellie  seated  herself  to  wait.  Imagin- 
ation pictured  a  loud-voiced,  unprepossessing 
Abigail  of  masculine  proportions  and  warlike 
demeanor,  whose  hands  were  fists  and  whose 
feet  extended  themselves  involuntarily  when- 
ever a  man  approached  ;  so  that  when  the  door 
of  an  inner  office  opened,  and  a  pleasant-faced 
womanly  woman  appeared,  she  cast  down  her 


250  SEQUEL  TO 

eyes  again  and  prepared  to  wait  a  little  longer. 
A  pair  of  eye-glasses  were  raised  to  the  mild, 
gray  orbs,  our  friend  surveyed  for  a  moment 
doubtingly  (Miss  A.  lias  not  the  happy  faculty 
of  remembering  faces),  and  then,  while  a  friend- 
ly smile  lit  up  her  features,  Susan  advanced  to 
where  the  stranger  sat. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  see  me,  madam  ? "  she  in- 
quired hastily,  and  with  a  preoccupied  air.  Evi- 
dently the  "  Revolution  "  was  behind  time. 

"I  am  waiting  for  Miss  Anthony,"  replied 
Nellie. 

"  "Well,  I  am  that  individual,"  she  answered. 
"You  have  probably  seen  some  newspaper  des- 
cription of  me,  and  so  failed  to  recognize.  You 
must  never  form  your  opinion  of  any  public 
character  by  report,  cartoon,  or  editorial.  They 
don't  treat  us  well  at  all.  But  what  is  the  matter 
with  you?  You  look  as  though  you  had  been 
crying  steadily  for  the  last  six  months." 

Nellie  smiled  a  little  sadly,  but  said  nothing. 
The  revolutionary  veteran  continued :  "  Now,  my 
dear  woman,  this  is  all  wrong.  Women  never 
will  accomplish  anything  until  they  stop  crying. 


UP  BROADWAY.  251 

I  don't  know  why  it  is,  but  they  seem  to  consider 
tears  a  badge  of  honor,  and  their  duty,  as  well 
as  privilege,  to  boo-hoo  on  all  occasions.  Men 
never  cry  !  Just  imagine  a  man  sitting  down 
and  weeping  because  some  little  screw  in  his  life- 
machinery  is  loose.  Do  you  think  if  he  did  a 
man  would  stop  to  help  him  fix  it  ?  No,  indeed ! 
I  tell  you,  with  less  brine  there  would  be  more 
common-sense  exhibited." 

"Yes,  Miss  Anthony,  very  true,"  replied  our 
friend.  "  But  some  women  have  great  excuse  for 
tears :  I  have  had." 

"  Great  cause  for  sorrow,  no  doubt ;  but  until 
women  learn  to  restrain  emotion  they  will  always 
be  in  the  condition  of  slaves.  If  a  woman  is 
unhappy  in  her  domestic  relations,  crying  doesn't 
help  it.  On  the  contrary,  it  ruins  her  eyesight, 
breaks  her  constitution,  causing  her  to  grow  pre- 
maturely old  ;  and  when  the  time  comes  for  that 
woman  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  scratch  for 
herself  and  children,  as  many  are  compelled  to, 
it  finds  her  shattered  and  unnerved,  in  no  con- 
dition to  stand  up  and  fight  for  her  rights,  as  they 
all  have  to  when  brought  into  competition  with 


252  SEQUEL   TO 

men  of  business.  You  are  earning  your  own 
living,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam ;  my  own  living  and  that  of  my 
children." 

"  I  thought  so,"  she  replied.  "  The  same  old 
story.  I  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  help  sub- 
stantially the  hosts  of  suffering  women  I  am 
thrown  in  contact  with  every  day  of  my  life,  but 
all  I  can  say  is,  do  the  best  you  can.  By  and  by, 
the  ballot  will  straighten  out  things.  Take  my 
advice,  now :  don't  let  fall  another  tear  !  " 

This  was  but  the  first  of  many  very  pleasant 
interviews  that  our  friend  enjoyed  with  Susan  B. 
Anthony.  Here,  too,  she  became  acquainted 
with  Mrs.  Stanton,  that  genial,  lovable  person 
whom  all  admire,  even  though  they  may  differ 
seriously  from  her  in  opinion.  The  sight  of  these 
two  women  working  together  for  the  same  great 
cause  sufficiently  illustrates  the  difference  be- 
tween unison  and  harmony.  Miss  Anthony,  in- 
tensely energetic  and  abstracted,  pleads  for  her 
sex  from  a  point  beyond  mere  feminine  sympa- 
thy ;  while  Mrs.  Stanton  is  all  woman,  and  every 
word  she  speaks  comes  out  of  a  heart  conscious 


UP  BROADWAY.  253 

of  its  needs  as  a  woman,  while  in  her  own  person 
she  is  an  exemplification  of  true  wifehood  and 
motherhood.  From  her  our  friend  always  felt- 
sure  of  winning  that  full  measure  of  sympathy 
and  appreciation,  that  toleration  of  female  weak- 
ness and  heart-want,  which  the  masses  strangely 
enough  consider  prominent  women  incapable  of 
understanding. 

Up  to  this  time  not  a  single  word  had  been 
heard  from  the  unnatural  husband  and  father. 
He  might  be  dead  his  relatives  argued ;  but  Nel- 
lie, although  willing  to  place  the  most  favorable 
construction  possible  on  his  silence  and  absence, 
felt  confident  that  he  was  alive,  and  that  lie 
would  be  sure  at  some  future  time  to  pounce 
down  upon  her,  disturbing  the  peace  and  inde- 
pendence so  recently  found.  She  tried  to  con- 
vince herself  she  was  no  longer  his  wife ;  that  his 
brutal  conduct  and  subsequent  desertion  had 
effectually  divorced  her ;  but  there  was  the  terri- 
ble legality  of  the  marriage  staring  her  in  the 
face.  In  her  agony  lest  he  might  at  any  time 
return,  and,  acting  .upon  her  refusal  to  live  with 
him  again  as  his  wife,  snatch  the  children  from 


254:  SEQUEL  TO 

her,  she  consulted  an  eminent  !N"ew-York  lawyer 
to  see  what  action  had  best  be  taken  in  the 
premises. 

The  honorable  gentleman  heard  her  through, 
and  then  remarked,  while  his  face  flushed  with 
indignation,  — 

"  It  is  a  cruel  shame  that  a  divorce  cannot  be 
granted  in  this  eminently  virtuous  State  for  the 
causes  you  describe;  but  unless  you  can  prove 
that  scamp  guilty  of  adultery  I  can  do  nothing 
for  you,  except  to  assist  you  in  procuring  a  sepa- 
ration—  a  mensa  &t  thoro — which,  as  a  friend,  I 
would  advise  you  not  to  apply  for.  If  wary  and 
patient,  you  may  succeed  in  procuring  a  divorce,  a 
mnculo"  And  then  followed  advice  in  reference 
to  watching  the  individual,  and  if  not  successful 
in  such  espionage,  to  finding  some  one  capable  of 
luring  him  into  the  haunts  of  vice,  from  which 
counsel  oar  friend  recoiled  in  horror,  as  must 
every  honest,  high-minded  woman. 

The  days  wore  on.  A  year  flew  rapidly  by. 
On  account  of  her  inability  to  furnish  her  apart- 
ments as  her  position  now  demanded,  and  hav- 
ing, with  the  incessant  labor  of  her  new  profes- 


UP  BROADWAY.  255 

sion,  little  time  for  the  details  of  housekeeping, 
Nellie  procured  board  for  herself  and  family, 
and  gave  her  attention  exclusively  to  literature. 

One  day,  while  busily  engaged  in  her  work,  a 
servant  entered,  and  informed  her  that  a  gentle- 
man awaited  her  in  the  parlor. 

" What  name  did  he  give?"  inquired  Nellie. 

"  Oh,  none,  ma'am,"  replied  the  waitress. 
"Sure  and  I  asked  him;  but  he  said  'twas  no 
matter;  you'd  know  when  you  got  there." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  sudden  convic- 
tion. It  was  her  "  clog  "  returned  to  annoy  her. 
No  other  man  would  ever  have  sent  so  insulting 
a  message.  She  opened  the  parlor  door,  pale  and 
trembling.  Sure  enough,  there  he  sat,  coolly  en- 
sconsed  in  the  corner  of  a  sofa.  As  though  he 
had  parted  from  her  but  yesterday,  he  arose,  ex- 
tended his  hand,  saying,  while  a  devilish  smile 
played  around  his  mouth,  — 

"How  are  you,  dnckey?  You  look  as  pretty  as 
a  pink  ! " 

"  I  am  very  well,  sir,"  she  responded,  stiffly. 
"But  to  what  unforseen  circumstance  am  I  in- 
debted for  this  visit  ?" 


256  SEQUEL   TO 

"Nonsense,  Nellie!  Don't  go  to  getting  sar- 
castic, for  you  know  I  never  could  stand  that! 
and  don't  get  excited  about  tines.  Why,  I  de- 
clare, you  have  grown  fleshy,  and  pretty  too! 
You've  a  nice  snug  place  here.  Been  boarding 
long?" 

"  About  six  months,"  she  replied. 

"What  did  you  give  up  housekeeping  for?" 
was  the  next  query. 

"Because,  after  your  sale  and  destruction  of 
household  articles,  I  had  nothing  to  keep  house 
with." 

"  Where  are  the  children  ?  I  expect  the  baby 
has  grown  to  be  quite  a  girl." 

The  two  youngest  were  called,  and  after  being 
taken  on  his  knee  for  a  single  moment,  were  dis- 
missed with  the  remark, — 

"  Now  run  away  ;  I  want  to  talk  to  mamma." 

No  sooner  had  they  gone  than  he  turned  to 
Nellie,  and  with  a  proprietor's  air,  said, — 

"  Where  is  our  room,  duckey  ?  I  am  as  tired 
as  the-  ." 

"  OUR  room !  My  room  is  upstairs,  sir ! "  she 
answered,  with  bursting  indignation.  "  You  have 


UP  BROADWAY.  257 

no  place  in  this  house,  and  never  will  have  in 
any  house  that  I  occupy.  I  have  done  with  you 
forever." 

"Done  with  me  forever?  That's  a  rich  joke !" 
and  the  wretch  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter. 
"Why,  the  little  woman  has  been  a  widow  so 
long,  she  really  believes  she  is  her  own  mistress. 
Have  you  quite  forgotten,  then,  that  we  stood  up 
before  a  minister,  once  on  a  time,  and  you  prom- 
ised to  love,  honor,  and  obey  —  to  take  for  better 
or  for  worse,  until  death  did  us  part  —  this  indi- 
vidual who  stands  before  you?  Ay!  duckey, 
I  have  got  you  now !  Come,  no  more  airs.  Show 
a  fellow  where  you  live.  Upon  my  word,  you 
haven't  the  slightest  idea  how  tired  I  am." 

"  Neither  do  I  care,  sir,"  and  the  slight  form 
was  straightened  to  its  utmost  dignity.  "And 
have  the  kindness  to  leave  the  house  im- 
mediately. I  am  supporting  myself  and  chil- 
dren, and  especially  request  that  you  will  in  the 
future,  as  you  have  in  the  past  year,  let  me  and 
mine  alone.  I  promise  that  you  shall  never  be 
annoyed  by  me,  under  any  circumstances,  except, 
17 


258  SEQUEL   TO 

indeed,  it  be  in  the  matter  of  divorce,  which  I 
intend  at  some  time  to  procure." 

Checkmated!  That  he  thoroughly  realized. 
For  a  moment  he  stood  as  if  petrified ;  then  his 
rage  burst  forth  in  a  perfect  volley  of  curses. 

"  Well ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  if  you  try  that  game, 

I'll  take  every young  one  you've  got  away 

from  you !     I  wonder  how  my  lady  will  relish 
that?" 

"  Take  them  if  you  can  !  "  replied  the  intense 
little  woman.  "  Notwithstanding,  I  am  your 
legal  wife,  and  you  are  the  legal  father  of  these 
children,  I  do  not  believe  there  can  be  found  a 
court  of  justice,  in  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
land,  that  would  give  you  the  custody  of  them. 
Might  makes  right,  in  almost  every  instance, 
and  I  have  proved  myself  capable  of  taking 
care  of  them — which  you  never  have!  and  I 
shouldn't  be  afraid  to  trust  the  decision  of 
any  so-called  honorable  body.  So  try  it,  and 
I  will  fight  you  to  the  last  gasp,  and  keep 
my  children  too." 

A  few  moments  after  our  ci-devant  lord  and 
master  left  the  house,  having  been  afforded  a 


UP  BROADWAY.  259 

fine  opportunity  for  reflection.  He  was  now, 
as  may  be  imagined,  at  his  wits'  ends !  Out  of 
business,  out  of  clothes,  penniless,  and  deter- 
mined not  to  work  unless  the  employment  ex- 
actly suited  his  fastidious  taste, — the  gentleman 
was  sadly  in  need  of  a  home,  and  a  wife  to 
support  him,  which,  strange  to  relate,  our 
friend  couldn't  be  made  to  feel  her  duty  For 
some  time  he  kept  exceedingly  quiet,  annoying 
her  only  by  letters,  in  each  of  which  he  expressed 
his  penitence  for  past  misdeeds  eloquently  im- 
ploring mercy,  in  no  instance  forgetting  to 
state  that  he  was  entirely  out  of  money ;  to  all  of 
which  appeals  she  turned  a  deaf  ear.  For  "  con- 
duct "  unbecoming  a  mason,"  he  had  been  ex- 
pelled from  his  lodge,  and  now  sought  favor 
again  in  he  eyes  of  his  brethern.  By  means 
of  tears,  and  promises  of  reform,  he  worked 
upon  their  manly  sympathy  to  the  extent  of 
persuading  them  to  act  as  his  ambassadors. 
Upon  no  account  would  our  friend  be  tempted 
into  saying  or  thinking  an  unkind  thought  of  the 
fraternity  of  which  he  was  once  an  honored  mem- 
ber. Notwithstanding  his  expulsion,  many  of  the 


260  SEQUEL   TO 

members  of  the  lodge  personally  sympathized 
with  and  aided  her  by  advice,  promises  of  pro- 
tection, and  in  one  or  two  instances,  pecuniarily. 
'They  could  not  tolerate  him  in  their  society; 
she  could  not  live  with  him  as  her  husband :  so 
far  the  lodge  and  herself  were  in  sympathy. 
Committees  of  masons  were  appointed  to  visit 
her,  and  endeavor  to  induce  her  to  welcome  the 
prodigal.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  after  hav- 
ing explained  to  her  their  ideas  of  the  duties  of 
the  case,  and  laid  before  her,  in  eloquent  terms, 
the  immense  responsibility  devolving  upon  her 
as  a  wife  and  mother,  she  made  answer, — 

"  Gentleman,  as  God  lives,  I  have  faithfully 
performed  my  part  of  the  marriage  contract. 
Because  I  was  a  wife,  and  believed  in  the 
sacredness  of  my  wifely  compact,  I  bore  pa- 
tiently every  description  of  abuse  possible  to 
conceive  of  —  torture  so  terrible,  gentlemen,  that 
words  would  fail  to  describe  it.  Desertion  he 
then  added  to  the  list  of  horrors,  and  for  one 
year  was  not  heard  from.  During  a  portion  of 
that  year  my  children  have  been  hungry  and 
cold,  suffering  for  the  commonest  necessaries  of 


UP  BROADWAY.  261 

life.  Through  the  keenest  physical  and  mental 
anguish,  by  God's  help  and  my  own  determina- 
tion, I  have  conquered  circumstances,  and  find 
myself  thoroughly  competent  to  support  my 
little  family ;  and  now,  having  reached  this  sat- 
isfactory position,  you  ask  me  to  take  again  to 
my  bosom  a  man  who  has  never  been  to  me  any- 
thing but  a  brute, —  a  man  who  left  his  wife  and 
children  to  starve  and  die.  Have  you  restored 
him  to  full  fellowship  in  your  lodge  ? " 

"  Oh,  no ! "  one  of  them  replied.  "  Such  fin  ac- 
tion would  be  in  direct  disobedience  to  the  rules 
of  our  order.  It  is  possible  he  may  be  reinstated 
at  some  future  time,  —  at  least  we  hope  so.  It 
depends  entirely  upon  his  subsequent  conduct. 
The  cases  are  not  analogous  at  all." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  Nellie;  "but  it  amounts 
to  just  this :  You  naturally  distrust  his  protesta- 
tions of  reform,  and  find  yourselves  unable  and 
unwilling  to  restore  him  to  the  privileges  of  your 
order ;  but  you  would  fain  convince  me  that  it  is 
my  duty  to  bring  this  man  into  the  most  intimate 
and  sacred  of  human  relations.  Gentlemen,  I 
fail  to  see  the  logic  of  your  argument." 


262  SEQUEL  TO 

After  this  last  turning  of  the  tables,  as  may  be 
imagined,  there  were  no  more  committees  o£ 
masons  appointed  to  visit  her.  Failing  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose  by  this  means,  he  suddenly  fell 
to  making  profesfsions  of  religion,  and  thus  en- 
listed the  sympathies  of  prominent  ministers  of 
the  gospel — every  one  of  whom  Nellie  in  turn 
resisted. 

"Your  husband  appears  very  fond  of  you," 
said  one  of  those  divines,  "  and  seems  to  dote  on 
his  children." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Nellie,  a  little  sarcastically,  it 
must  be  confessed,  —  "his  past  conduct  has  fully 
demonstrated  the  depth  and  intensity  of  his  affec- 
tion for  both  wife  and  children." 

"  But,  my  friend,  can  you  not  allow  bygones  to 
be  bygones  ?  Can  you  not,  for  the  sake  of  future 
happiness,  forgive  and  forget  ? " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  am  trying  to  do,  if 
his  friends  will  only  allow  me.  I  can  bury  the 
man,  and  his  misdeeds,  beyond  all  possibility  of 
resurrection." 

"  But,  madam,  you  are  his  wife, — his  wife  in 
the  sight  of  God." 


UP  BROADWAY.  263 

"That,  sir,  I  deny.  To  my  shame,  I  am  obliged 
to  confess  myself  his  legal  partner  ;  but,  in 
God's  sight  I  am  no  more  his  wife  than  I  am 
yours,  nor  so  much, — for  between  us  there  may 
be  some  bond  of  sympathy." 

As  may  be  inferred,  the  parson  was  somewhat 
shocked,  and  entered  his  most  solemn  protest. 

"  Do  not,  I  beseech  you,  my  dear  madam,  allow 
yourself  to  be  inoculated  with  the  loose  ideas  at 
present  prevailing  in  reference  to  marriage.  The 
past  has  probably  been  bitter  ;  but  it  is  a  wife's 
duty  to  forgive  everything,  and  to  be  ready  to 
believe  anything.  You  should  remember  your 
sacred  promise — keep  it  constantly  before  you — 
to  love,  honor,  and  obey  until  death." 

"  Sir,"  said  Nellie,  "  you  know  nothing  what- 
ever of  this  man ;  nothing  of  me,  except  what 
he  has  chosen  to  represent.  You  have  come 
armed  with  all  the  panoply  of  your  profession, 
eloquent  with  texts  of  scripture,  wrested  to  suit 
my  peculiar  case ;  but  all  this  can  make  no  im- 
pression upon  me.  My  heart  has  cicatrized  at 
last,  and  can  no  longer  feel  any  sense  of  especial 
duty  towards  the  man  whose  cause  you  are 


264  SEQUEL  TO 

pleading,  unless  indeed  it  jbe  the  duty  I  owe 
myself  and  children  of  letting  him  gloriously 
alone.  My  dear  sir,  I  would  have  you  answer 
me  one  question.  What  is  a  wife  ?  Taking  you 
on  your  probable  answer  that  it  is  a  woman  who 
has  publicly  promised  to  love,  honor,  and  obey  a 
man  until  death  should  part  them  twain,  —  I 
would  again  ask,  Can  a  woman  keep  this  prom- 
ise unconditionally?  Are  love  and  honor  and 
obedience  still  due  a  man  who  has  himself  vio- 
lated every  promise  of  his  own ;  who  abuses,  con- 
taminates, insults,  fails  to  provide  for,  and  finally 
forsakes  the  woman  he  has  promised  to  love  and 
cherish  ?  and  is  marriage  then  a  mere  physical 
bond  perfectly  consistent  with  hatred  and  disgust  ? 
Am  I  the  wife  of  that  man  ?  Has  not  every  law 
of  right  already  divorced  us ;  and  would  not 
any  sanction  the  law  might  give  to  such  divorce 
be  a  mere  form  —  the  mere  opening  of  a  wooden 
door  ?  So  it  seems  to  me,  sir ;  and  all  the  argu- 
ment that  the  combined  force  of  all  creation  could 
bring  to  bear  on  this  subject  would  not  move  me 
a  hairVbreath." 

"  Then,  I  suppose,  it  is  no  use  for  me  to  say 


UP  BROADWAY.  265 

any  more ;  but  I  do  beseech  of  you  to  be  careful. 
You  are  still  young  and  comely — love  may  be 
offered  you,  Mrs.  -  — .  I  have  no  doubt  but  it 
will  be  so.  Oh,  madam,  I  shudder  to  think  of 
it ! "  and  the  agitated  parson  wrung  his  hands  in 
bitterness  of  spirit. 

"  If  love  is  offered  me, —  real,  genuine  love," 
replied  Nellie,  who  could  with  difficulty  suppress 
a  roar,  "  I  have  an  indistinct  sort  of  an  idea  that 
I  shall  accept  it,  and  be  wonderfully  thankful 
therefor.  Love,  you  know,  to  use  your  own 
weapons  (scripture  weapons),  is  but  l  a  fulfilling 
of  the  law ; '  '  love  worketh  no  ill  to  its  neighbor,' 
etc.  I  should  be  basely  forgetful  of  first  princi- 
ples did  I  reject  the  inestimable  gift.  I  have 
never  yet  loved, — never  seen  the  man  to  whom 
my  heart  can  bow  down  in  homage,  saying,  '  You 
are  my  conqueror.'  Four  years  of  practical  wid- 
owhood, during  which  the  most  intense  stretch 
of  every  faculty  has  been  an  e very-day  cxperi- 
rience,  during  which,  day  by  day,  and  week  by 
week,  the  cry. of  my  children  for  bread  must  be 
met  and  answered,  left  me  but  little  time  to  think 
either  of  wrhat '  might  have  been,'  or  (  might  yet 


2C6  SEQUEL   TO 

be ;'  and  yet  I  possess  a  woman's  dearest  needs 
and  intensest  yearnings.  I  believe,  with  Miss 
Diana  Mulock, — that  most  conservative  of  con- 
servatives, who,  like  all  poets,  speak  the  truth 
in  spite  of  themselves,  that  — 

'  Duty's  a  slave  that  holds  the  keys, 
But  love,  the  master,  goes  in  and  out 
Of  his  goodly  chambers,  with  song  and  shout  — 
Just  as  he  please  —  just  as  he  please. '  " 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  after  this  the  clergyman 
took  his  leave. 

To  this  day  our  friend  has  remained  firm  in 
her  determination.  Living  with  her  all  these 
years  of  struggle  and  heart-ache  opened  my  soul 
to  the  terrible  woes  which  a  large  class  of  women 
endure  at  the  hands  of  the  law,  and  gave  me 
strength  and  courage  to  cry  out  with  all  my 
woman's  might  against  its  terrible  injustice.  At 
this  time,  when  my  head  was  bowed  almost  to  the 
earth  with  affliction,  the  heroine  of  "  Up  Broad- 
way "  was  strangely  thrown  in  my  path,  and  with 
her  consent,  and  that  of  her  husband,  I  deter-' 
mined  to  give  the  story  to  the  world. 

There  is  another  thing  which  it  will  be  well 


UP  BROADWAY.  267 

to  take  into  consideration  before  leaving  this 
subject.  Woman,  whether  made  to  be  loved  or 
not,  no  one  will  deny  is  made  to  love.  One  of 
the  arguments  used  by  men  against  her  occupy- 
ing certain  places  requiring  intellectual  strength, 
is  that  she  is  made  to  live  in  the  affections.  So 
she  is.  The  woman  who  becomes  too  sorrowful, 
or  too  hardened  by  any  experience,  to  love,  is 
wanting  in  the  distinctive  womanly  attributes 
given  her  by  God.  Suppose  now  the  deluded, 
cheated,  abused,  disgusted  wife,  whose  nature  is 
none  the  less  loving  because  of  her  sorrow,  and 
certainly  needing  love  all  the  more,  meets  some 
man  who  would  be  to  her,  strength  and  happi- 
ness; and  suppose  they  mutually  love.  Such 
things  have  been.  Is  she  for  what  was  her  dire 
misfortune  to  be  doubly  punished,  and  doomed 
to  be  legally  bound  to  the  man  who  has  kept 
not  one  of  the  vows  of  his  marriage  bond  ?  Is 
it  just  that  his  cruelty,  drunkenness,  or  desertion 
should  go  for  nothing  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  and 
she  be  obliged  to  have  his  secret  footsteps 
dogged  to  prove  him  adulterous?  Or  suppose 
another  case :  A  good  man  has  a  termagant 


268  SEQUEL   TO 

wife  :  his  home  is  made  wretched  with  her  vixen- 
ish disposition,  till  he  is  glad  to  seek  refuge  from 
her  sight  in  club,  lodge,  or  bar-room.  Even  the 
gambler's  hell  is  often  less  infernal  than  a  man's 
house.  Why  should  he,  in  order  to  be  legally 
free  from  the  thorn  in  his  side,  be  able  not  only 
to  "prove  her  unbearable  in  temper,  but  unclean 
in  morals  ?  The  law  will  grant  a  separation ; 
why,  then,  not  a  divorce  ?  "Will  you  answer 
because  the  law  of  God  says  for  this  cause  (adul- 
tery) alone?  Do  yon  pretend  that  the  divorce 
law  of  the  State  of  New  York  is  founded  on 
divine  law  ?  "Where,  then,  do  you  find  in  Holy 
"Writ,  that  an  offence  which  sends  a  man  to 
State's  prison  is  adulterous  ?  but  that  is  legal 
ground  for  divorce.  Where  do  you  find  that 
desertion  for  seven  years  is  adulterous  ?  yet  that 
is  also  legal  ground  for  divorce.  Does  it  not 
seem  that  these  laws  of  a  State  made  by  men, 
were  fashioned  by  them  to  suit  their  own  con- 
science, and  then  salted  a  little  with  scripture  to 
season  them  ?  Do  not  say  it  is  as  hard  upon  man 
as  woman.  It  is  not  so.  A  man  may  leave  his 
loving  or  unloving  spouse,  and  so  long  as  he  does 


UP  BROADWAY. 

not  openly  outrage  any  of  the  social  proprieties, 
no  disgrace  attaches  to  him.  Let  a  woman 
leave  the  man  who  maltreats  her,  and  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  she  must  henceforth  walk  more 
than  widowed.  At  once  she  is  regarded  with 
suspicion.  The  widow  may  enter  freely  into 
society,  but  the  deserting  or  the  deserted  wife, 
whether  in  the  house  or  by  the  way,  must  guard 
every  look,  word,  and  action.  She  is  in  constant 
danger,  in  the  most  innocent  of  her  actions,  of 
compromising  herself.  She  has  no  liberties ;  she 
never  is  her  "  own  mistress."  Every  gossip  and 
scandal-monger  has  a  right  to  watch  and  criti- 
cize her  movements.  In  many  communities  a 
woman  is  almost  as  much  disgraced  by  the  fact 
of  having  parted  from  her  husband,  as  she  would 
be  if  she  had  committed  a  crime.  It  is  always 
hard  for  her  to  obtain  respectable  employment. 
Of  course,  the  better  educated  and  more  enlight- 
ened the  community,  the  less  likely  it  would  be 
to  take  this  view ;  but  even  the  best  are  apt  to 
look  with  a  slight  degree  of  suspicion  upon  such, 
and  receive  her  demands  for  acceptance  and 
appreciation  with  a  grain  of  social  salt.  And  if 


270  SEQUEL   TO 

she  dares  accept  friendship  and  sympathy  from 
any  man,  what  an  object  of  interest  she  at  once 
becomes  to  Mrs.  Grundy! 

"We  would  not  for  the  world  that  any  change 
should  be  made  that  we  did  not  in  our  heart  of 
hearts  believe  would  be  for  the  best  good  of 
society.  The  outcry  that  has  of  late  been  made, 
of  danger  to  public  morals,  as  the  result  of  any 
change  in  the  strictest  marriage  laws,  is  in  our 
opinion  quite  gratuitous.  Don  Quixote  will 
always  be  ready  to  fight  wind-mills ;  but  the  free 
winds  of  heaven  will  not  be  constrained  by  the 
arm  of  any  old  fogy,  whether  individual  or  col- 
lective. We  do  not  believe  that  any  permanent 
evil  could  possibly  result  from  an  amelioration  of 
the  laws  of  divorce,  as  they  exist  on  the  statute- 
books  of  the  State  of  New  York.  Is  Connec- 
ticut any  less  moral  than  other  States  ?  and  yet 
the  divorce  laws  there  are  far  less  rigid  than 
those  of  any  Eastern  State ;  exceeded  in  liberal- 
ity by  none  in  the  Union,  except  those  of  Indi- 
ana. Of  course,  in  both  these  States,  there  are 
more  divorces  than  in  any  others,  and  why? 
Simply  because  the  laws  of  other  States  are  so 


UP  BROADWAY.  271 

rigid  as  to  induce  many  outsiders  to  flock 
thither :  just  as  the  Southern  slaves  used  to  flee  to 
Canada  for  freedom.  Since  the  emancipation  of 
slavery  that  hegira  has  stopped;  and  so  would 
the  hegira  of  men  and  women  to  Indiana  in 
search  of  freedom  from  hateful  marriage  bonds, 
if  the  laws  of  other  states  were  framed  upon  the 
liberal  principles  which  govern  these.  Out  of 
the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  author  has  written 
the  preceding  pages.  That  they  may  arouse 
good  men  and  women  to  the  injustice  so  potent 
to  all  who  will  think,  is  her  fervent  desire.  God 
grant  it ! 

THE   END. 


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